


You and The Moon and Neptune (Got it Right)

by alienharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:02:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8268544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienharry/pseuds/alienharry
Summary: Of all the different ways Louis had pictured meeting his soulmate, he never imagined he’d come second to his little sister. He assumed he’d have met his own soulmate by now, that he’d already be married and sickeningly in love, guiding his kid sister through these new and confusing feelings. He wanted one hand on his soulmate’s waist and the other on Lottie’s back as he told her that everything was okay and she wasn’t moving too fast. 
  Of all the ways Harry saw his life going, being a 23-year-old sales associate at Harrods and hating every minute of it was not what he envisioned for himself. If he’s being honest, he saw himself in Peru or China or - hell - even fucking Denver, just traveling. He wants to see the world, not oversee the women’s department 36 hours a week. ---Louis has always wanted to meet his soulmate; he's built his life around the plan that one day his soulmate would come along, and they could begin their happily ever after.Harry has always wanted to travel; he's built his life around the idea that nothing is permanent, and seeing the world is his only objective - soulmates mean nothing to him after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bright by Echosmith.
> 
> I just want to say thank you to my wonderful betas for going through and editing out all the kinks. And a special thank you to [Puck](http://skeloutonboy.tumblr.com), [Dana](http://queerlies.tumblr.com), and [Elena](http://adarkbluesea.tumblr.com) for putting up with me yelling about this fic. Y'all are the bombdotcom and I'm sorry for making you sit throught that. 
> 
> I've been told this is the angstpocolypse, so with that warning, I give you: 

Of all the different ways Louis had pictured meeting his soulmate, he never imagined he’d come second to his little sister. Now watching Lottie and her soulmate plan their _wedding_ of all things, he feels terribly single.

It’s not that he’s angry - far from it, he’s actually excited - it’s just that he assumed he’d have met his _own_ soulmate by now, that he’d already be married and sickeningly in love, guiding his kid sister through these new and confusing feelings. He wanted one hand on his soulmate’s waist and the other on Lottie’s back as he told her that everything was okay and she wasn’t moving too fast.

So no, Louis isn’t angry - or even upset, really. It’s just… This isn’t how he pictured events unfolding.

“What do you think, Louis?” Tommy’s voice draws him back in. “Red or gold?”

Lottie and Tommy both have peaceful smiles on their faces, completely serene as they await Louis’ response. “Uh, gold,” he answers, pointing to the photo on the right. “It looks so classic. Timeless love, right?”

“Yeah,” Lottie giggles, hiding her grin in Tommy’s side, leaning in as he wraps his arm around her, kissing the top of her head. “Gold is perfect.”

And yeah.

Louis wants that too.

☕☕☕

Of all the ways Harry saw his life going, being a 23-year-old sales associate at Harrods and hating every minute of it was _not_ what he envisioned for himself. If he’s being honest, he saw himself in Peru or China or - hell - even fucking Denver, just traveling. He wants to see the world, not oversee the women’s department 36 hours a week.

Harry wants to backpack across Europe, swim in the Pacific Ocean, hike the trails of Machu Picchu. He wants to meet interesting people and live spontaneously. This monotonous shell of a life he’s living feels _wrong_.

Every morning he wakes up wanting to quit his job, pack his bags and just… go. But he can’t. Every fiber of his being is yelling at him to leave, but for some reason he can’t. It makes him… Well, it makes him want to bang his head against a wall.

To just slam it.

Completely bash it.

Throw it -

“Harry?” a tentative voice asks, making him glance off to the side, away from where he just envisioned his head falling against/into the wall in the stockroom. “Alright, love?”

 _No_ , he thinks. _My life is going nowhere and everyday spent in this store is another dream I’m giving up on._

“Yeah,” he says instead, clearing his throat so as not to show any negative emotion. “It’s just been a long day.”

Perrie coos and rubs her hand in circles on Harry’s back. “We’ve just one hour left. If you can get through it, drinks are on me tonight.”

With his forehead still against the wall, Harry nods, unable to turn down free drinks as he is in this condition.“One hour?”

Perrie smiles and kisses his temple. “One hour.”

☕☕☕

It’s just gone after eight, the whole clan having come together for their weekly Thursday-night dinner. Tonight was mostly about Lottie and Tommy discussing their wedding details, but not one person was protesting the conversation point. Dan is sat with the couple, exchanging stories and smiles over tea while Louis cleans.

He’s careful not to disturb them, choosing instead to watch and slide around everybody as he listens to their excitement and their giggles that suggest they’re sharing secrets, when really they’re just basking in each other’s happiness. Louis is smiling too, in a loopy headspace because -

Okay, here’s how it is. Louis’ seen this exact moment before. He’s pictured himself taking a plate from Lottie as she leans into her soulmate. He’s seen himself making a joke at Lottie’s expense, her arm swatting at him as his own soulmate watches on fondly, maybe even throws  in a jab of his own.

It’s such a simple dream, one that most people would find vapid or basic, but Louis… he’s always craved the domesticity, wanted to be with his soulmate more than is considered normal.

It’s when Louis’ placing the dishes in the sink that his mother, Jay, confronts him, light hands sliding around his shoulder to pull him into a hug. “What’s wrong, Boo?”

“Nothing, really,” Louis lies, grimacing as he realizes how selfish it sounds to complain that his sister met her soulmate first when really - at least she’s found love.

Jay hums, rubbing circles on the middle of Louis’ back. “I’m here if you ever want to talk,” she reminds him. “Or if you ever feel like babysitting while Dan and I go out.”

Louis chuckles, pushing himself away from his mum. “You can’t pretend to be a doting mother just for some free babysitting.” There’s a grin on his face and Jay knows he’s joking, showing just that by giving him a light shove. “But if you want to go out tonight, I could stick around.”

“No, no,” Jay tsks. “You’ve made it plenty clear that I’ve manipulated you into offering.” Louis goes to open his mouth, call her out, but she holds her hands up. “I’ll just have to have you watch them tomorrow.”

And Louis’ alright with that - he loves spending time with his siblings. It’ll definitely get his mind off of all this soulmate talk, and hopefully stop himself from going crazy with jealousy.

☕☕☕

It’s actually three hours before Harry and Perrie make it out of work, tired and angry, sick of being scheduled to get off mid-rush, so they’re _forced_ to stay later.

“I’m just saying,” Perrie’s still complaining as they take their seats at the bar, “if they want us to work through rush, then they should just schedule us for it.” She sighs as she grabs a menu, even though they both know damn well that she’s not going to need it. “I’m just sick of looking forward to getting out at 5, and having to stay until 8.”

“Me too - ”

“That’s why they only schedule us for 36 hours,” she continues. “Because they know they can milk in a few more hours  without risking overtime.”

Harry loves Perrie, he really does, but this is exactly the kind of thing he wanted to avoid in his life: complaining about his boring job, sitting at the same pub he always sits at, pretending to think about what he wants to drink, even though he knows he’ll just order a whiskey sour, just like he always does.

It’s this mundane, domestic life that he’s never wanted to live, and everyday that he feigns happiness is another day he regrets.

“So how are things?” Perrie asks after telling the bartender her order. “I feel like we never just talk anymore.”

Harry shrugs, watching as the bartender pulls two glasses from below the bar. “Things are okay. Same as usual.” _The very same_. “How are things with you?”

“Things are good,” she nods. “Things are good.”

Their drinks are placed in front of them and silence dances around them as they sip. They’re watching the muted television play some sports highlights from the night before - it’s what they did last week, and the week before it, and the week before that.

Perrie asks after Gemma and laughs as Harry tells a story from when they were children. It’s  like it was last week, and the week before it, and the week before that.

They get their refills and Perrie jokes that by the end of the night, not even her stride will be straight, and the bartender laughs. It’s the same it was last week, and the week before it, and the week before that.

It’s always the same, and Harry’s never felt so close to breaking.

When Harry’s four drinks in and feeling _just_ buzzed enough to lose his filter, he turns to Perrie, looking on as she bites at her straw, and groans. “I can’t do this, Pez.”

“Whassat?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whines. “It’s too much and it’s been too long. I can’t do it anymore.”

“That’s okay,” she nods, taking the tumbler out of his hand. “We can take an early night.”

“What? No.” Perrie’s grabbing her wallet out of her pocket, ready to close her tab, but that’s the exact opposite of what Harry wants to happen. “Not that, Pezza, I can handle my liquor.”

“You always say that before you throw up, babe.”

And Harry drops. His head hits the counter and a sound of pure agony falls out of his mouth. “Why do you know that? You shouldn’t know that.”

It’s quiet between the two of them, the noise of the pub fading into the background. Perrie’s watching Harry as he refuses to lift his head up, afraid that if he does, he’ll start sobbing.

“Are you alright, Haz?”

“No,” Harry cries, tears fighting their way out and onto the bar top. “No, I’m really not.”  

☕☕☕

Tommy ends up hauling Louis out of the house, dragging him by sleeve of his shirt, and shoving him into the passenger seat. He drives just down to a pub on Third Street, talking mindlessly the entire ride. It’s only nine and the place is kind of dead for a Thursday night, but Tommy still pulls him inside and pushes him into a booth.

They fill the silence with small talk as they sip on their drinks. It’s awkward, of course, seeing as the two of them aren’t the greatest of friends, having only known each other for a few weeks, but Louis tries to make the best of it.

It’s just hard when every time he looks at Tommy he’s reminded of the fact that his little sister met her soulmate first.

“Did I tell you that I used to play footie in college?” Tommy speaks up.

“No, you didn’t,” Louis replies, shaking his head as he wraps his lips around the beer bottle. “Were you any good?”

Tommy laughs, “No. I spent the season on the bench.”

And Louis… He just doesn’t have it in him to laugh. He’s spent so long waiting for his soulmate, happy to let Fate do its thing, but that was before Fate decided to laugh in his face as it led his sister to her soulmate, and left Louis high and dry.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” Tommy sighs at the half-smile Louis barely attempts to place on his face. “You’ve been quiet all night, and I know that’s not like you.”

Louis shrugs instead of answering. He doesn’t exactly know how to tell his sister’s fiance that yeah, he’s happy for them, but he wishes they could’ve waited another couple of years. He doesn’t know how to say that even though they’re happy and in love, Louis kind of wishes they weren’t.

It sounds horrible. Hell, it _is_ horrible. It’s awful, and Louis’ the worst kind of person for thinking it, but part of him still believes he should have met his soulmate first.

“Louis, c’mon,” Tommy tries again. “We’re going to be brothers. You can talk to me.”

And Louis just - he crumbles.

“Where’s my soulmate?”

“What do you-”

“Where is my soulmate,” Louis repeats. “I’m the older brother, I should’ve met mine first.” Tommy’s silent and Louis feels like utter shit. “Fate’s sake, I sound like a horrible brother.” Fuck, he might just cry. “I’m happy for you two, like. But you’re only 19. I’m 25. I’m fucking _old_.”

And he’s crying.

“Louis, I - .” Tommy’s speechless. He probably didn’t intend to come out and deal with a teary-eyed Louis,  nevermind one that complained about something Tommy has no control over. “You’re not horrible, you aren’t! You’re - I’m.” Tommy’s floundering for words, not sure what to say.

“I’m horrible!” Louis continues. If he can blame the alcohol when morning comes, then he’s going to take advantage of that and say what’s on his mind. “I should be happy for my sister, grilling you about what type of person you are and helping her through her emotions. _Instead_ , I’m cryin’ in a pub at 9 PM on a Thursday. No wonder I don’t have a soulmate!”

“Well, first of all,” Tommy starts, placing his hand on Louis’ arm in an attempt to soothe him, calm him down enough to stop his tears, “there’s someone crying at the bar with, like, four shot glasses in front of them, so you aren’t the only one having a bad night, it seems.” Louis laughs - just a little - sniffling as he goes along. “And second of all, just being there for Lottie as she goes through this is good enough. She doesn’t expect you to be her emotional anchor, she just wants you to be happy for her.”

“Which I am.”

“Which you are,” Tommy agrees.

And yeah, this is kind of helping. For being so young, Tommy really has a hold on this kind of thing.

“It’s normal that you’d be a little insecure about your future, especially with your sister, and  - I’m just assuming but - some of your co-workers finding their soulmates.” Fuck, Tommy _really_ has a hold on this kind of thing. “But just because you haven’t found yours yet, doesn’t mean they aren’t out there waiting for you.”

Louis nods, feeling loads better but a bit embarrassed at his minute breakdown. “You’re right,” he insists. “I’ll find my teacup.”

“Yeah” Tommy smiles crookedly, confusion painted behind his eyes. “I’m sorry, your _what_?”

“Teacup,” Louis smiles, hand rubbing over the marking on top of his forearm. “It’s my marking. It means that there’s someone out there with a teacup on their body. My soulmate.”

Tommy nods in understanding, liking the small flicker of hope in Louis a lot more than the previous misery painted all over him. “And they wouldn’t want you to be crying over them. Just like you don’t want _them_ to be crying over you.”  

☕☕☕

Harry can’t cry anymore, he doesn’t think. He’s not only exhausted himself with it, but some guy came through to grab a drink and gave Harry a look of pure pity. So now he has humiliation to add on top of complete and total sadness for his life.

Even Perrie excused herself to use the bathroom to get away from him. The only good thing Harry has to say about this night is that it’s _not_ the same as the one before it. Yes, it’s true. With absolute confidence and sorrow on his side, Harry can say that he’s never cried in a pub before.

“I’ve got some good news,” Perrie suddenly appears, sliding into her seat with a twisted grin on her face. “You aren’t the only lad crying in the bar,” she assures him. “There’s some guy at a table in the back crying while his friend rubs his back.”

“How is that good news?”

Perrie hums as she finishes the last drink from her daiquiri. “It’s not,” she explains. “But it levels the playing field so you don’t have to feel so ashamed.” She looks cocky about her revelation, and Harry doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it doesn’t help him, just makes him want to cry harder than the other bloke.

As much as he doesn’t want to be this sad, he’s already started crying, so now he wants to be the saddest person in the bar.

“So about this whole,” she waves her hand around, searching for the right word to use, “boredom thing. Have you thought about changing pubs and switching your work schedule? I’d hate to not see you every day, but if it would help you-”

“Pez,” Harry groans. “I’m not just bored with the pub and work.” He’s really regretting his phrasing _the same shift and same pub every day._ They’ve definitely crossed wires somewhere. “I don’t want to be living this life. I want to go places and do things.”

“Well, Glastonbury -”

“Not a vacation!” A sob hiccups in Harry’s throat again because he’s exhausted and frustrated at himself for breaking down, and now also for not being able to explain himself. “I want to quit my job. I hate Harrods, I hate the women’s department, and I hate being predictable.”

“You’re not - ”

“Perrie, up until I started crying, this day went  the same exact  way last Thursday did, as well as the one before that.”

If it were to continue in this pattern, they would go home, splitting a cab. In the morning, Harry would wake up and call Perrie, who would swear she’s _never drinking again_. They’d make plans to have dinner on Saturday, and Harry would start the day by calling his sister and mum to catch up on family news and promise to come see them soon. And then he’d make spag bol to eat while watching Gogglebox, with Dusty sleeping on the arm of the couch next to him.

He’s predictable.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Perrie insists. “Most people crave that kind of a schedule, Love. I used to want to be a suburban mum _so_ bad, Hazza. Did I ever tell you that?”

“No.”

Perrie laughs. “Yeah, me and my old friend Aimee used to plan what our children’s schedules would be. Taking young Francesca to footie practice while Alastair goes to violin lessons. We’d have cast parties after the school musical, and I’d make mum jokes and drink wine.”

Harry can picture it, Perrie driving a minivan and making casseroles for dinner. He can see her and her soulmate hosting Parents’ Night parties and getting only the slightest bit tipsy, but acting like it’s as wild as they’ve ever been.

He can definitely see it.

“Your dreams are so simple,” Harry sighs. “You can achieve them so easily.”

“I want to be a mum, Harry,” Perrie lectures, a serious look in her eyes as she speaks. “I’ve always wanted to find my soulmate and have a few kids. Everything I’m doing now is leading up to that. I’m saving my money to buy a house for my future family. I’m just playing the waiting game by now.”

“You don’t need to wait for a soulmate for kids,” Harry points out. He doesn’t speak of it often, but he doesn’t see much of a point in relying your happiness on another person. “You can adopt or get a donor.”

Perrie grins sadly, lips thin as she waits for Harry to finish. “I _want_ to wait,” she stresses. “I’ve always had a soulmate when I pictured my future. I want her there with me.”

And he understands. In the same way that Harry’s dream always involved strange faces and exotic places, Perrie’s always involved a woman to love - someone to raise their children with. Harry doesn’t want that, but he understands.

“You’ll get that,” he points out. “One day.”

“And you’ll get yours,” Perrie affirms. “You’ve just got to go - to go,” she yawns halfway through her motivational speech and Harry barks out a laugh. “Maybe not tonight, though,” she giggles. “Wait until you’re awake and sober.”

That sounds like a good plan.

☕☕☕

Louis’ running late. He’s about two hours and ten steps behind his schedule. By the time he woke up, he should’ve already been at The Black Lab getting his tea and Nick’s coffee. The back of his head is pounding,  and he has a feeling it’s more from the crying than the alcohol, seeing as he only had one beer, yet he cried about three bottles worth.

But it’s okay, because one day he’s going to have a beautiful soulmate making breakfast for him while he rushes through his shower. He’ll get dressed and run into the kitchen, eat the full English sitting set out for him with his tea that’s been made _just_ right. He’d kiss his soulmate on the lips and run out the door, just barely beating traffic.

He just has to wait a little longer.

That’s not to say that Louis didn’t go home and cry himself to sleep last night, body shaking in the aftermath of his sadness.

But, it’s a new day now. Louis’ all cried out and he’s feeling a lot better. He knows his soulmate is out there somewhere, ready to meet him. They’re probably just as lost as Louis, wanting so bad to meet him, but finding new faith. They’re probably waking up right now with hope and a new goal set, so everything they’re working towards is for their future with Louis.

☕☕☕

Harry wakes up feeling far lighter than he should, seeing as the night before, he drank Perrie under the table and cried twice as much as he drank. He _should_ be halfway to his grave, one loud noise away from dying. Call it a miracle and a newfound source of optimism, but Harry’s feeling the best he has in months.

Pezza’s words are echoing in his head, reminiscent of his favorite song rather than nails on a chalkboard as has been previously experienced.

Everything Harry’s working towards is for himself, his travel. Everything in his bank and everything he’s saving is so that when the time is right, he can leave everything behind.

Harry’s out of coffee when he goes to make a cup. Instead of getting angry or upset or _crying_ about it (which he probably would’ve if not for Perrie’s pep talk the night before), it brings a smile to his face because now, he’ll get to go out for coffee.

Already a change in his usual Friday.

His typical coffee joint is Kaffeine, a small Aussie-owned shop on Titchfield Street, but Jesy from Sporting Goods always comes in with a mug from The Black Lab, and she’s always so happy. So instead of taking a left as he exits his flat, he heads right and settles in for a bit of a walk.

Mid-June as it is, , it’s a decently warm morning, but not extremely hot. It’s absolutely perfect, and for the first time in far too long, Harry feels absolutely elated. He even finds himself chuckling when he stumbles over a crack in the pavement.

When he gets to The Black Lab, there are only two people in line, yet  by the time he’s the one standing at the register, it’s as though half of London is in the line behind him.

It’s been a great morning. Even when things go wrong, some go right. So feeling as brave as he is, Harry’s order goes as follows: “The weirdest coffee you’ve got, please.”

“Sure thing,” the  cashier nods as he types in the order. “You’re in luck, it’s the last cup.”

☕☕☕

Louis finds himself forgetting about his soulmate-problems once he arrives at  The Black Lab and has to squeeze himself inside, barely able to shut the door behind him. He doesn’t even spare a thought to the despair he felt the day before, too caught up in the small, crowded cafe. If this wasn’t the only coffee shop on this side of London that carried Nick’s coffee order, he definitely wouldn’t stand for this.

But considering that it is literally his job to stand for this, he’ll just have to stick through it. Even if the woman at the front of the line takes twelve years to get her wallet outof her purse, only to have her card declined and end up paying in cash.

As the line moves up and Louis takes his spot at the register, he resists the urge to sigh, instead smiling at the man tending the till. “Hey Trevor,” he greets. “I’ll take a Yorkshire tea and a Peppercorn coffee. To go.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tomlinson,” Trevor starts, Louis’ hackles immediately rising in response. “We just sold the last cup of Peppercorn.”

“Sorry?”

Trevor grimaces, clearly sensing Louis’ anger and disbelief. “The man leaving now bought the last of it.”

Louis doesn’t bother looking back, because he can hear the door slamming shut behind the stranger , taking away the last cup of Peppercorn on this side of London.

“Okay,” he sighs, looking up at the menu board, silently wondering who on Fate’s green Earth would take a chance with that disgusting abomination of a beverage. “Give me the most hipster-y, pretentious, fiber-loaded, terrible coffee you have.”

“Mr. Tomlinson, I just told you we were out of Peppercorn.”

And regardless of how off kilter this morning has been, Louis finds himself laughing. “I figured,” he shakes his head, feeling lighter thanks to the joke alone. “Give me the next best thing then. Please.”

☕☕☕

The Peppercorn coffee wasn’t amazing, but it had a sweet twist to it, and Harry found himself finishing it before he even got home.

Entering his flat, he goes mentally over what he usually does on Fridays. He’d already sent texts to his mum and Gemma to let  them know everything’s going alright and though he loved them with all his heart, he couldn’t call them today (and even _that_ minor deviance from schedule was oddly freeing). The only thing left for him to do is make dinner and watch TV.

So, obviously, he turns on the radio and decidedly does _not_  cook dinner.

Part of the reason might be due to it being nine in the morning, but it’s mostly out of protest for his normal routine.

Harry flicks on the radio in his kitchen, excited to hear what’s playing, seeing as he hasn’t listened to it since long before he moved in.

“ _\- And that was my terrible twink of an assistant explaining to me the_ worst _story I’ve ever heard -_ ”

“ _Have you not listened to your own then?_ ” A posh, feminine voice interrupts the host.

“ _You’re hilarious, Laura,_ ” the host deadpans. “ _Remind me to laugh at your expense the next time your assistant is two hours late and delivering literally the_ worst coffee _I’ve ever had, okay?_ ”

The girl, Laura, laughs and continues, “ _That’s a very specific scenario, Grimmy._ ” There’s some noise in the background that sounds like it’s most likely from a producer or two chuckling along. “ _Just leave Tommo alone and be glad he puts up with your difficult arse._ ”

The host, Grimmy, scoffs and Harry finds himself smiling along. It’s a great day.

So he calls Perrie.

☕☕☕

The day hasn’t much improved for Louis. It seems as though his proclamation of Fate doing its thing has royally fucked him over. After Nick _embarrassed_ him on air, three couples came in to be interviewed about their soulmate -status, looking sickeningly in love and just making Louis… ache.

To top it all off, he took a taxi to save time on his morning route, but didn’t bring enough pocket money  to take one back home, meaning he’ll have to make do with the tube.

It just feels like one thing after another keeps tripping him up. Like the universe is laughing in his face.

He won’t be walked over, though. He made a decision and he’s following through on it. He’ll be patient. He will _wait_ for his soulmate, just like Fate wants for him. He can’t get angry or clumsy or frustr -

“Oh, goodness.”

And Louis nearly runs someone over in his haste. “I’m so sorry,” he rushes to apologize, feeling instantly and absolutely mortified at how poorly concealed his wrong-footedness is going.

“It’s alrigh’, love,” a smooth, northern voice comforts. It soothes him, making him feel homesick but at home at once. “I didn’t even spill me tea.”

What she says is completely normal, fully sensical with the situation they’re in, but it’s been a long, tiring, confusing day for Louis. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how life without his soulmate is tearing him apart. Any other day, he could play off him stumbling into her with an apology before heading off on his own, but he’s so caught up in his head, so ready to meet his soulmate, that his mind immediately rushes to a wild place.

At the mention of tea, Louis looks up, straight into bright blue eyes radiating kindness. “Are you my teacup?” is all Louis can think to say, sparing a thought to the marking on his arm.

“Your what, hun?”

“My soulmate,” he corrects, internally chastising himself for sounding so simple and young with such a serious matter. “Are you my soulmate?”

In the complete opposite reaction that Louis was hoping for, the blonde starts laughing, cute small giggle shaking through her body. “Sweetheart, I want nothing more than to meet my soulmate,” she starts and Louis’ heart _drops_. “And having somebody as handsome as you would be a win for sure. But you didn’t say my words.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear,” she says, adding, “but there’s somebody out there with your marking on their body, and they’ll love you far more than I ever could.” Her voice has just enough warmth inflicted into it to make Louis smile.

“You’re proper good at that, aren’t you?” He grins, offering his hand. “I’m Louis.”

“I’m Perrie,” she slips her hand in his and shakes it. “And my best friend has cried on my shoulder far too often for me not to be.”

Louis knows how that goes. He hums, slipping his hand into his back pocket. “Just want to meet their soulmate?”

“No,” she denies. “He wants to travel the world. Just drop everything and go.”

“Well, he should,” Louis insists. “There aren’t too many chances out there to just _do_ something for yourself in today’s world. He should take the chance while he can.”

☕☕☕

Harry’s late.

He’s definitely late. He couldn’t get any taxis to stop this close to rush hour, so he had to take the tube. And even _that_ was running late. By the time he actually gets off, he expects Perrie to be angrily tapping her heel, ready to tell him off for keeping her waiting. Instead, she’s nursing a tea with a smile on her face as she leans against the building behind her.

He approaches her, arm on her shoulder, and  leans in to kiss her cheek. “Sorry I’m late, Love.”

“Babes,” she starts, returning his kiss before guiding him away with a hand on his arm. “I just met the cutest little dumpling, and I swear, I wanted to take him home with me.”

☕☕☕

It’s not been an easy week for Louis, but things could be worse. He’s still got a job and a home and his soulmate is out there somewhere. Blame it on optimism and an excess of caffeine in his system , but for some reason, he has this _feeling_ that he’s close to meeting his soulmate - close to finally being together like they’re made to.

It’s Wednesday, and tomorrow Louis has to be at his mum’s for her weekly family dinner. And it’s not like Louis _doesn’t_ want to go, it’s just that nowadays it seems more like a planning session for Lottie and Tommy’s wedding.

The conversation from last week in the pub is ringing in Louis’ ears, reminding him that _yes_ , he will find his soulmate one day, and that it’ll happen just as it’s supposed to with everything falling together perfectly. But even with that mantra in his head, it doesn’t make sitting through a three-hour interactive show about his sister and her soulmate any easier.

So that’s why Louis’ buying alcohol.

He’s bringing wine for everybody to enjoy, but he’s also got a fifth of Absolut in the cart as well, ready to get proper smashed once he gets home. No more crying in a pub for this big kid.

He also picks up biscuits because they’re two for five pounds, and he’s definitely going to be craving _something_ as he gets pissed at midnight.

And maybe some crisps.

A frozen pizza wouldn’t harm anyone.

Okay, Louis’ drawing the line after he picks up a bag of mini chocolate bars. In fact, as he standing in line, overlooking his cart full of alcohol and junk food, he’s feeling more like an 18-year-old than he did when he actually _was_ 18.

So Louis puts the frozen pizza back - which is to say that he puts it on the shelf in line. He checks out, and then goes back home to sleep and prepare himself for when he’s _really_ going to check out - at his mother’s tomorrow.

☕☕☕

Every time Harry goes to Tesco he always ends up buying something that he doesn’t need, which is exactly why he always goes shopping last minute, when he’s in a rush, and has no time or appetite to look around and decide on small things that don’t matter.

Not only is it an inconvenience to his wallet, but Harry’s pretty sure it’s part of the reason he’s put on some weight over every winter for the past five years.  

So he rushes through the store, only going down the aisles that hold specific items on his list. He doesn’t stop to talk to his sixth form teacher and her soulmate, too busy keeping his head down as he grabs milk from the cooler, careful not to look at the whipped cream or French onion dip only a door over.

He rushes down the baking aisle because yes, he needs nonstick, but no, he does not need a bag of semisweet chocolate chips. Wants, yes, but it’s not a necessity.

It’s a method that works about two-thirds of the time, saving him the bother of claiming new items he _really_ doesn’t need and making his money disappear. But sometimes - times like today - he’ll walk into the line and see a _frozen pizza_ of all things staring him in the face. It’s still frozen, couldn’t have been out of the freezer for more than 10 minutes, and so Harry picks it up and puts it on the belt.

“Those damn impulse buys, huh?” he jokes. “It’s like Fate knew I was coming through.”

☕☕☕

Nobody knows what causes a soulmark to appear, a dark grey tattoo that’s either the first phrase or word your soulmate ever says to you or a symbol representing your first meeting. There have been a few cases where the _name_ of a soulmate appeared on somebody’s body, but that’s the exception to the rule.

Sometimes the marking is there from the moment you’re born, and other times it doesn’t show up until long after a couple has met and gotten married. There’s no pattern to the timeframe within which it appears, but surely enough, everyone gets one.

There are speculations, since the beginning of time, really, according to which a soulmark appears at the exact time somebody is ready to meet their soulmate. It’s a sensical theory, but it doesn’t account for couples that are financially unable to support themselves, let alone another person. Or somebody that doesn’t _want_ a soulmate, flat out rejecting theirs. Or couples that are too young to really explore their bond.

Others say that it appears when you’re close to meeting your soulmate, but that one has been disproved many a time when people get theirs 30 years before or after they meet. And “close” is such a relative term that it wouldn’t make sense regardless.

The pairing of soulmates is another mystery. What makes two people so utterly perfect for each other that the universe has no choice but to _brand_ them with a reminder of each other?

Chemistry is one explanation - two beings with reproductive symmetry, able to produce strong and healthy offspring. But that doesn’t account for same-sex couples, or infertile couples, or even couples that simply don’t _want_ any children.

Multiple partners is another mystery; when the universe pairs three or four people together. It’s rare, of course, but it does happen. There’s no explanation for how a polyamorous couple can be Fated for each other - or even more peculiar, when one person is Fated for two people, but their partners aren’t Fated for each other.

Some couples don’t stay together. One may stray, or they may both lose faith in their bond, problems becoming too big to rely on Fate to help them get through. These cases aren’t as rare as they should be.

Soulmates are an enigma in their own. It’s an unexplainable phenomenon that draws two people together just by the ink on their skin. Questions have been asked, but a solid answer is yet to be found. Soulmates are a puzzle, but one thing is absolute: when a couple meets, there’s an undeniable spark that pulls them together, and everybody can feel it.

☕☕☕

The day Louis meets his soulmate feels surprisingly easy - like, so normal Louis thinks he should’ve suspected something was off just by how _smoothly_ his morning went.

He wakes up early, to start off, and on a _Monday_ of all days. There’s enough time for him to take what is probably the nicest shower he’s had in months, and even grab a bagel to eat on the way to The Black Lab.

Surprisingly enough, traffic is easy-flowing and steady - a warm surprise for London rush hour. He hits nearly every green light, only has to stop a seldom few times which is to be expected of a Monday morning, but it’s still significantly less time spent waiting at red lights than usual.

There’s an open spot at The Black Lab for parking and the meter still has 30 minutes in it, so Louis doesn’t have to pay at all.

He walks in smiling, having had too good of a morning so far not to. Trevor grins at him as he takes his order, assuring him they do, indeed, have enough Peppercorn this morning. Louis laughs because even though the memory of that morning is sour, it’s still been such a great day that Louis can’t help but find it funny.

There are two girls and a guy waiting by the counter for their own drinks, and Louis is happy to stand behind the small crowd. He’s got plenty of time before he has to be at the studio, so it really is no problem to wait.

It’s when the man in front of him grabs his drink and goes to turn around that Louis feels like something strange may be happening, a subtle buzz simmering beneath his bones.

Louis’ so stuck on the feeling and trying to decipher what it is that he doesn’t think to move, and the man with the tea bumps _right_ into him, splashing it down the front of Louis’ shirt.

And Louis should be mad. He should be so _angry_ that his perfect morning was ruined because some clumsy fool didn’t think to look where he was going with his very hot, very much _open_ , beverage of his. Louis should be absolutely livid.

Yet he isn’t.

There’s no way he can focus on any emotion other than absolute amazement as his body is attacked by a million little jolts of electricity that shock his entire body from the tip of his toes up to the top of his head. It’s as though every nerve is standing on edge in the most pleasant way.

Louis looks up sees the teacup in the man’s hand. It feels new and familiar all at once. The edge of his vision starts to fade out, white spots dancing behind his eyes as the world around him blurs, his focus solely on the teacup in front of him.

It’s an overwhelming amount of emotions he’s feeling, attacking every fiber of his being as his entire body comes alive, feeling and sensing something he never has before before. It’s as though he’s entered a fourth dimension, seeing sounds and tasting color.

He’s come alive.

He wants to live in this moment forever, find a way to bask in the happiness and wonder and _love_ he feels as he stands before his soulmate, wearing his mark, and shining brighter than any light ever could.

“I am so sorry.”

A deep, slow voice drags Louis out of his head, gently pulls him back to the real world where the sparks are more subtle throughout his body, but still a prominent part of everything happening.

“I didn’t even see you and my body just...” the man’s - his _soulmate’s_ \- voice trails off. “Are you okay, mate?”

“I,” he starts, looking up into the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Big green eyes and plump pink lips, looking at him worriedly, and making Louis’ entire body sing in delight. “I’m fine.” And he starts laughing - giggling, really. “I’m so fine.”

“Right,” his soulmate laughs. “I think the tea was a little too hot. You’ve gone a bit wild in the eyes.”

And of course he has! He’s met his soulmate. After 25 excruciatingly long years of waiting and watching everybody he knows and loves meet their soulmates, he’s now meeting his own - the one who perfectly completes him, the soon to be love of his life that he’s only just met.

This is the beginning of the rest of his life.

“I’m alright, I promise,” Louis smiles, placing his hand on his soulmate’s, and for a moment, he can’t speak as the teacup on his arm burns something fierce, tingles stronger than any of the other sparks did. And it makes him laugh again. “I’m perfect, actually.”

His soulmate, apparently not as hypnotized as Louis, slowly pulls his arm away. “Let me at least get you a flannel.”

“Yeah,” Louis laughs again, watching his soulmate approach the counter and exchange words with… somebody. Louis really only has eyes for his soulmate, his tunnel vision blurring everything and everyone else out.  

It’s amazing, really, that Louis ever thought he had experienced joy before this moment. Every single emotion he’s ever felt, all the happiness and anger and sadness and fear - it’s all incomparably dull to the pure elation he’s feeling right now.

“I’m so sorry, mate,” his soulmate insists. “Truly. That was my bad.”

“No harm, honest.” As he watches his soulmate wipe off his shirt in graceless strokes, shaking a little with nerves, Louis may just fall in love a bit. “I’m Louis, by the way,” he introduces, realizing that he doesn’t know the name of his clumsy, yet beautiful soulmate.

His soulmate hums and finishes blotting the rest of the tea off of Louis’ shirt. “Alright, Louis,” he smiles. “I think I got it all.”

He steps away and hands the flannel off to someone behind the counter before grabbing two cups that were just resting there. He turns around and offers them both to Louis.

He’s confused, to be honest, doesn’t realize that they’re his and Nick’s orders at first. But soon the haze clears from his mind and he thinks fast enough to grab them from his soulmate’s hands. “Thank you,” he mumbles. His soulmate grins and sidesteps him, on his way to exit the coffee house.

And Louis is confused.

Something feels off, and he isn’t sure what it is, but he wants to find out.

He follows his soulmate out the door, pushing it with his back to keep his and Nick’s drinks up. “Hey - ” he pauses, it hits him that he doesn’t even know his own soulmate’s name, and yeah… something isn’t right. “Hey, you!”

His soulmate stops and turns around, eyebrow raised when he sees Louis fast-walking to keep up with him. “Yeah?”

“I, uh,” Louis stutters. “I never got your name.”

His soulmate laughs - it’s a small one, but the noise is beautiful and Louis thinks he could live inside of it forever. “It’s, uh, it’s Harry.”

He nods and then turns to start walking. Louis wants to reach out and grab his arm, to feel the reassuring sparks, just so he knows that everything wasn’t in his head, that this man, Harry, really is his soulmate.

“Can I, uh -” And for Fate’s sake, Louis really is out of his element here. “Can I get your number. O-or something?”

Harry laughs and rubs his hand on the back of the neck and it’s, well. It’s just cute, isn’t it? Everything about him is cute. If this is real - if this is _really_ real - then Fate did a great job. “I don’t really give my number out.”

Louis laughs. It’s a bit abrupt, coming out of him in one burst of a cackle. It feels like a joke. It’s got to be a joke.

“But we’re soulmates.”

“We’re what?” The smile on his face looks strained now, less natural, less _pretty_ , than the one he’d had early. Now it makes something heavy sit at the bottom of Louis’ stomach. The shaken feeling from earlier is coming back, this time stronger.

Something’s wrong.

Louis laughs, stilted and just completely forced. “Soulmates,” he adds. He’s panicking now, he can feel it, shaking him up and making him short of breath. “You have a teacup soulmark, right?”

Despite his whining, Harry seems to have heard him properly enough to blanch, all the color from his face draining out completely. “Uh, yeah. I do.”

“Then we’re soulmates?” And Louis knows they are, can feel the ball of lead in stomach, can feel the tingles setting every nerve on fire. They’re soulmates.

So why does this feel so wrong?

“Oh,” Harry smiles - kind of. “That’s cool. It was nice to meet you, Louis.”

And then Harry’s off, moving too fast for Louis to keep up while holding two cups in his hand. Something happened, and Louis isn’t sure what, but it settles in him in the worst way. What started off as a great day is steadfastly worsening. And -

And Louis’ going to be sick.

☕☕☕

Harry Styles has had his fair share of experiences with soulmates in his short 23 years. When he was only four, his father - in a rather angry manner - announced that he was leaving, that he’d found his soulmate, a young woman named Jillian. He walked out of the house on a cool, September night, and never walked in again.

They got married in January, exchanging vows and sharing smiles across the altar. Everybody cooed at the happy couple, and wished them luck. They toasted their love and danced the night away - all while Harry and Gemma sat in the back because Jillian didn’t want her family to know that her soulmate had kids before her.

But it was okay, because Des soon forgot about them anyway.

His mum found her soulmate when Harry was 10. He doesn’t remember much about the guy - just that his name was Chad and he was a giant American arsehole. He always called Harry ‘kiddo’ and told Gemma that if she didn’t learn to cook and clean, her soulmate would never want her.

They really hated Chad.

His mum wasn’t too fond of him either. She didn’t understand how the universe could screw up so much.

(Though much, much later, when Gemma had met her own soulmate, and Harry had long since moved out, his mother disclosed that making love to your soulmate is some of the best fun you could ever have. Harry doesn’t like to think about that, but it does explain why Chad stuck around for so long.)

Chad was around for a year and a half before he decided that Anne was “too much effort” in his words. She cried for a bit, but not for as long as she had when Des left. Maybe it was the amount of time she devoted to the relationships, or the quality of the men, but Chad wasn’t as big of a loss as a soulmate should’ve been.

It was when Harry was fifteen that his mum found Robin. He _definitely_ wasn’t her soulmate, the elegant scrawl of _Tilly_ on his hip affirming it. But Robin’s own soulmate had passed away after they’d had only four short years together, and he’d been alone ever since.

When Harry asked how he could be so happy without his soulmate, Robin answered that sometimes your soulmate is just needed for one moment, not forever. And it was odd to hear it explained like that because his aunts, uncles, teachers, and preachers all told him that his soulmark, the little teacup on his thigh, symbolised a forever kind of love.

So to see his mum and Robin so happy - happy enough to move in together after only a few months - was really odd. Neither of them were supposed to be together, but they were and they were _happy_.

They got married when Harry was sixteen, and he was the best man. He liked that he got to stand up there and watch his mum _finally_ get her happily ever after. Their honeymoon was in Fiji, and Robin bought tickets for the whole family.

His reasoning was that Anne’s kids were now his kids, and he wouldn’t want to go somewhere so beautiful without his family. (Let it be known that Harry and Anne both cried when Robin explained himself - Gemma, on the other hand, only laughed, thankful she didn’t have to spend her summer hols in dreary London.)

It was that exact trip to Fiji that gave Harry a glimpse into what would soon be his biggest dream. Everything was new and amazing, and the history behind every place they visited was extraordinary. Harry was addicted after just one taste.

After that, soulmates kind of lost their meaning to him. They weren’t forever, that much had been proven, and Harry wasn’t going to worry about being tied down. In fact, he wasn’t going to be tied down at all - he was going to see the world. And no soulmate would ever get in the way of that.

☕☕☕

Harry’s Fridays off are something of a gift, and ever since he decided to change up in schedule (the only staple holding him together until he left on his trip around the world), he’s been finding new things to occupy his time.

This particular Friday has Harry walking around London with Perrie, the two of them gossiping about their lives - even though they already know the intricate ins and outs of each other. They’d already gotten their coffee and tea and visited the ‘most adorable little antique shop, I swear it’ as Perrie had phrased it.

“So did I tell you what Cara from Bridal told me the other day?” Perrie asks as they step out of the antiques shop. Harry doesn’t respond, aside from a small hum, just to let her know he’s listening. “She said that her roommate has someone who may have a similar soulmark to mine - her best friend or summat.”

Harry raises his eyebrow. Because, see, Perrie has a very odd soulmark, the words “ _I’ve been waiting years for you,”_ sketched across her collarbone, which is interesting in itself (and Perrie admitted she once thought it would be a police office as her mother once had a bobby pull her over and say the same), but she was also born with half of a heart on her tailbone. Harry once mistook it for a tattoo, but when he told Perrie this, she swatted him with a giggle.

Other than  once in her childhood, nobody’s first words to Perrie have matched her soulmark, and if somebody came close, they couldn’t explain the heart tattoo. So to hear that somebody could possibly fulfill the demanding order must overjoy Perrie.

“What do their words say?” Harry asks, looking at the small smiling dancing across his best mate’s face.

“Cara wouldn’t tell me,” she shrugs. “Said if she really _was_ my soulmate, then I’d find out next Saturday, wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

Harry can’t really help but think how soon next Friday is. One week and Perrie might be meeting her soulmate. Just one week and Perrie will finally get to start living her dream.

And Harry’s still not made arrangements to begin his.

But he refuses to sound even the slightest bit jealous because she deserves better than that. “I’m really happy for you, Pezza,” he smiles. “You should say something wild when you meet her.”

“Like what?”

“‘ _I think I’ve stepped in dog poo_ ’,” Harry mocks. “And then she’d say your words, like she’s been waiting for your dog poo shoes for years.”

Perrie laughs, sharp giggles falling out of her mouth as she whacks his arm. “I’m not telling my soulmate I have dog poo on my shoes, you menace.”

The two share a chuckle before they stop in front of a pet shop, and Perrie drags him inside, saying she just wants to look at the animals. Harry doesn’t mention the fact that she once said she wants to own at least five pets with her soulmate. He doesn’t want to call her out when she looks so happy.

“I want him,” Perrie whines as they approach a cage where the smallest hamster is running on his wheel. “I want ten.”

And Harry laughs because they’ve not even been in the store for 30 seconds and she’s already fallen in love. “Maybe they’ll let you hold him-”

She gasps. “Do you really think?”

Harry shrugs as she immediately runs to the desk to talk the kid monitoring the store into let her hold Jimmy the hamster for “only a few minutes, really.” And Perrie’s a pretty girl - gorgeous, even. She has this poor sod looking at her like she hung the moon as she’s all smiles and strong accent, just begging to let her hold the animal.

Of course he says yes.

It’s as Perrie’s got Jimmy in her hands, scurrying around in short bursts of movement, that Harry sees movement in the corner of the store.

Looking up, a shiver of warmth rolls up his spine and the marking on this thigh burns in the most pleasant way, but a small fire of irritation does its job to mask everything, because honestly, he thought he was done with this one.

“Louis!”

And that’s weird, because it wasn’t _Harry’s_ voice that called Louis’ name.

It was Perrie’s.

Louis looks over and smiles when he sees Perrie, but then his gaze meets Harry’s and the grin slips a little, but a shiver visibly takes over his small frame. And as much as Harry hates to admit it, it’s oddly satisfying to see Louis react so strongly to him.

He waves, but otherwise doesn’t approach, which is good because Harry doesn’t know what he would even say. “ _You look great without tea stains_ ” is hardly an opener for even a bad conversation.

But then Louis reaches and pulls a bag of dog food, about two-thirds the size of him off a shelf, clearly struggling, and heads straight for Harry.

“Hi, Perrie,” he greets.

And right, his best friend is literally right next to him, isn’t she?

“Hey, Louis,” she coos. “It’s great seeing you.” She makes a move to hug him, but separating her hands had Jimmy squealing and running up her arm. She giggles and picks him up, putting him back in her palm

“Yeah,” Louis laughs. “Although I feel like you’ve always got summat in your hands.”

“Innit?” And the two of them share a laugh, making Harry feel extraordinarily left out. He’s bitter about it too, his head pounding as he can’t help but to glare at Perrie, the most harmless threat in the world. It’s odd, and Harry can’t explain it, but he doesn’t like it one bit.

“Hi,” Harry greets, inserting himself into the conversation, which is the exact _opposite_ of what he wanted to happen. He searches his brain for something else to say. “So how do you two know each other?” And not that, anything but the acidic, jealous tone in which that was spoken in.

Louis flinches a little at the tone and refuses to make eye contact with Harry. “We ran into each other a little bit ago -”

“Literally,” Perrie giggles. “He ran straight into me and almost made me spill me tea.” And this story feels a little familiar. “Thought I was his soulmate. ” Both Louis and Harry stiffen. “It was the sweetest thing.”

“Yeah - ”

“Did you end up meeting yours?”

“Uh,” Louis flounders. “I - ”

“That’s a really big bag, Louis,” Harry cuts in, not able to take the skirting anymore. He’d rather not sit through this uncomfortable conversation any longer. “What kind of dog do you have?”

Louis looks relieved and smiles gratefully at Harry - who steadfastly ignores the flutter that goes through his stomach at that - and shakes his head. “I don’t, actually. It’s for my boss.”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah,” Louis nods, looking down at the bag, now resting on the ground. “I’m an assistant to this arsehole, and he ran out of groceries this morning. So now I’m doing some shopping for him and his dog.”

Perrie huffs, sounding every bit the mother hen she really is. “That hardly seems fair, love,” she sympathises. “Have you talked to him about it?”

The conversation continues for far too long, and Harry contemplates just snatching Jimmy the hamster and leaving Perrie and Louis. Harry’s not even paying attention, only hears the words “radio” and “coffee” and “pretentious hipsters” and really Harry could not care less.

“That’s lovely, Louis,” Harry cuts in, not sure he can take anymore of the two standing there, smiling, as Perrie holds a hamster like it’s a _child_. The whole image is just… disgusting. It rubs Harry the wrong way. “But I’m sure you have to be off to work, don’t you?” he asks. “Buying coffee and answering phones, and all that important stuff.”

He tries to ignore the hurt look on Louis’ face, tries not to think about the fact that his laugh, one of the most beautiful sounds Harry’s ever heard, was wiped away and replaced by a cloud of sorrow all because of something he said.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. “I’d best be leaving.”

With a kiss to Perrie’s cheek, and a sad nod at Harry, Louis struggles to carry the bag up to the counter and pay for it, before heading out the door. Harry gets the urge to help him out, but he puts that down to his generally nice and caring personality.

The entire walk to the tube, Harry has to listen to Perrie complain about how rude Harry was and as much as he loves her, he really cannot listen to another minute of this.

Without so much a goodbye, Harry heads down to the tube and away from his best mate.

She just doesn’t understand.

☕☕☕

At the family dinner on Thursday, Louis should have been able to tell his family that he met his soulmate not once but _twice_ in the past ten days, but instead, he shifted in his seat, and flinched every time anybody said the word “soulmate”.

He should’ve had his soulmate there with him, but instead, his soulmate was out, doing something fun, probably not worried about Louis because he’d made it clear that he doesn’t really care. It still hurts, and it made Thursday dinner sufficiently awkward.

When his mum asked about it later that night, he waved her off, telling her he was just tired from work. He then went home, and spent half the night crying.

But that’s in the past. And today’s a new day, Louis decides - well, not so much decides. It’s more that he realizes it and takes it in stride. He’s got to drive out to some record label in Manchester this morning, and he’s filling his car up so he doesn’t have to stop on the way. Besides, all the petrol he buys today is courtesy of the station, so Louis would be a fool not to take advantage.

He’s in line, waiting to just spend as much as he can on petrol, when he hears a giggle behind him that sends fire through his body and makes his teacup throb. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s Harry, but he does anyways.

And immediately wishes he hadn’t.

Harry’s face is shoved into the neck of a man, a handsome man that looks like a mix of a Doberman puppy and David Beckham. Louis’ teacup burns even stronger, but this time it’s painful, and Louis isn’t ashamed to admit he’s jealous. Jealous and angry.

And hurt.

As Harry’s pulling his head away from the man’s neck, Louis snaps his eyes to front of the line, unable to look at Harry when he seems so happy, so joyful, so… okay without Louis.

“Sophia’s so lucky,” Harry laughs, his voice so light and wonderful. Louis assumes he’s talking about his friend’s girlfriend or soulmate. “I wish I had a strong and handsome soulmate like you."

Louis knows he’s joking, can sense the tone of their friendship, and can hear his friend laughing. “Sod off, mate,” he tells Harry. But it doesn’t break Louis’ heart any less.

After the first time they met, when Harry ran away, hardly even acknowledging their soulmate status, Louis' marking started to itch. It wasn't urgent, not really, but it was significant enough to be noticeable.

The burn didn't really heal itself until the second time he saw Harry, when his friend Perrie, the pretty blonde, called him over. It started to soothe itself, but when Harry basically told him to leave, it got bad again.

Now it's at its worst, it's gotten to the point that Louis can't ignore it. It feels like he's constantly scratching at it, trying to relieve the bone-deep ache beneath it, to make _something_ feel good about his soulmate.

It's working -at least, up until he stops scratching. Then it gets bad again.

He’s making progress, though. He doesn’t cry or scratch or really give in to the sadness and anxiety until he’s halfway to Manchester.

But he doesn’t really stop after that either.

☕☕☕

Harry didn't want to raise warning to Perrie, especially with her big, possible soulmate meeting tonight. But he desperately needed her warm, motherly advice. So that’s why he had asked her out to lunch earlier in the day. She gladly accepted, because her nerves had gotten the best of her, and it had given him an opportunity bring up his soulmate predicament without exactly mentioning a soulmate.

"Remember when I cried on you at the pub?" He had started with, hoping his joking approach would get her in the right spirit. She had nodded, laughing a little as she remembered. "And remember how you said everything I do should lead up to my dream?"

"Of course," she’d hummed, a look of concern painting her face. "You've not gone and quit, have you? You're not leaving me so soon?"

And Harry had laughed because the idea of him quitting, especially now, was really quite funny. "No, love, of course not." Perrie sighed, and Harry tried not to be hopelessly endeared, but he really was. "But something has come up, and it might get in the way of me actually, you know, living my dream."

"No," she had insisted, quite loudly. "You can't let anything or anyone stop you, Hazza. It's important that you do what you want and not let anything get in your way. Obstacles are not an option."

And she was right, Harry agrees. His journey has been a long time coming, and a _boy_ is not going to change that, especially when he’s so fucking close to being able to just leave. A paycheck or two, really, and Harry can pack his bags.

And he wants to - man, does he want to. There’s only so many times Harry can tell himself that working in retail is rewarding work.

It’s not, is the thing. There’s nothing rewarding about having to tell the same gorgeous woman that she looks great in what she’s buying ten times in an hour. There’s nothing rewarding about having to kick a man out of the store because he’s not dressed well enough. There’s nothing rewarding about having to tell Pezza to fix her makeup because she could literally lose her job if it isn’t perfect.

There’s nothing rewarding about that terrible place.

And that’s why every single day Harry comes home dragging his feet up the stairs to his flat, wondering why he ever decided that working in retail would be a good idea.

It’s as Harry’s getting to the staircase for the fourth floor that a door opens, and this time, Harry doesn’t even have to look at the familiar, lean body shape to know who it is. He feels the sparks throughout his body, the ache of his soulmark, the teacup throbbing.

It’s Louis - of course. He’s closing the door to flat number 43, and Harry has a brief, frightening thought of Louis moving in below him.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He must’ve said it loudly, or maybe it was Louis’ soulmark that gave him away, but Harry’s presence was definitely noted.

“Oh,” Louis breathed. “Hey, Harry.” And Harry’s mark lit up as Louis said his name. “Funny seeing you here.”

“Well, I live here,” he deadpans, not concealing the suspicion and slight anger from his voice. “It’s a little more funny to see _you_ here.”

Louis flinches, and Harry tries not to feel badly about it. “My, uh, my best mate, Niall, lives here.” Harry nods and tries to continue his trip to his flat, but Louis’ hand on his arm stops him. It makes his soulmark burn like hell, and honestly, that thing is becoming such a fucking hassle. “Actually, can we talk?”

Harry sighs, and he purposefully tries to make it sounds as exasperated and unfriendly as possible, just so Louis understands how little he wants to do with him. “I really don’t - ”

“Look,” Louis snaps, not reacting at all as Harry angrily pulls his hand away, shocked that Louis would have such an attitude with him. “I’d just appreciate if you’d try a little harder with this soulmate thing.”

And that -

Well, that makes Harry see red. Because he is trying, and that’s exactly what he tells Louis. “Listen here, Louis,” he spits, not stopping even when Louis takes a cautious step back. “I know that meeting me was probably something you’ve been waiting for, but I’m new to this. I’m not just going to immediately open my arms to some… some _stranger_.” There’s an acidity to his voice that has Louis’ eyes shining and his feet backing him into the wall. “I’m trying my hardest, and I’d appreciate some fucking slack.”

“Right,” Louis mumbles, still cowering away from Harry, back nearly parallel with the wall. “Sorry.”

And then Louis’ gone, running down the steps, hand flying to his forearm.

It’s been a long day. Harry’s insanely frustrated, and he really just doesn’t have it in him to care.

☕☕☕

Let it be known that Lottie Tomlinson is certifiably mad.

Not only did she decide to buy herself a birthday present this year, but she dragged Louis out with her, and made him give his opinion on everything.

Which, alright, Louis loves his sister - all of his sisters, actually - and getting to spend time with them is amazing, but Louis felt it, the moment they walked into Harrods, that Harry was somewhere in the building. His soulmark flamed, which was a great relief from the itching, but it was terrible news for his state of mind.

He has yet to have a pleasant encounter with his soulmate, and it’s slowly tearing him apart. He can see the damage that his scratching is doing to his arm - yet it’s leaving his soulmark in perfect condition. Louis _should_ be thankful for that, for the fact that his soulmark is indestructible, but he wishes it would just fade and go away. That couldn’t possibly hurt more than what he’s already going through.

But he’s making it work - well, trying to, anyway. He’s keeping himself busy with work and family, distracting his mind from how empty he feels inside.

Lottie’s decision to buy her own birthday presents this year is just ridiculous, and Louis told her so the very minute she spilled the news to him, but he went along with her because it’s a hindrance to the pain of feeling constantly rejected by his soulmate.

“I just want a dress,” Lottie lies as they walk into the Women’s department. They both know she’ll walk out of there with half the store. “Maybe some shoes to match.”

He would normally laugh, finding the predictable nature of his sister funny and charming, but he can’t focus on anything other than the buzz in his veins getting stronger. It’s gotten to the point that he knows he’s going to see Harry in the next few moments.

“Louis?” And Louis flinches before he realizes it’s just Lottie, her hand a soothing anchor on his shoulder. “Alright?”

He nods, but it feels hollow because there’s no real meaning behind it. He doesn’t know if he’s alright. It’s inevitable he’s going to run into Harry, and that’s the last thing he wants.

He doesn’t even refer to Harry as his soulmate anymore, and it’s slowly tearing him up inside. He never thought he’d be _afraid_ of his soulmate, wanting to avoid him. And yet there’s also a pull there. Even though every time he’s run into Harry, he’s left feeling absolutely devastated, completely torn up inside, Louis still wants to see him.

He wants to sit down and _try_ \- try and make this work, try for _something_ , to at least pretend to go after the life Fate’s placed for them.

He doesn’t know Harry’s favorite animal, or his favorite color. He doesn’t know if Harry’s allergic to anything, or if he has siblings or pets. He doesn’t know about the relationship he has with his parents or if he ever went to school and got a degree. He doesn’t know where Harry works, or if he’s ever listened in to Nick’s show while Louis was talking. He doesn’t even know his _fucking_ last name.

All he knows is that his soulmate is Harry, and that Fate fucked up somewhere.

“Alrigh’,” Lottie sighs, removing her hand from his shoulder. “I’m here if you want to talk, though.”

Louis nods again. “I know,” he tells her. “Let’s pick out a few things then, shall we?”

“I only need a few things.”

A few things turns into four different dresses and two pairs of shoes, and she hasn’t even tried anything on yet. Louis would make fun of her for it, but she’s just been so happy lately and he’s not in the right spirit to really even try.

It’s a busy afternoon at Harrods, mostly women as this _is_ the women’s section, and no associates have come around questioning why a nice girl like Lottie is wandering around with Louis - who, though wearing nicer clothing, still probably looks a bit homeless.

He’s not caught sight of Harry which is… well it’s pretty good lu-

“Is there anything I can help you two with?”

And, _fuck_.

“Yes, actually,” Lottie answers, and Louis snaps his head up because - again - _fuck_. “Do you have this in a bigger size?”

He sees Harry before Harry sees him. He doesn’t know where Harry’s mark is - because they don’t know anything about each other - so he can’t tell if Harry’s bothered by the burn as much as Louis is.

“We do, actually,” Harry laughs, taking note of the fabric in Lottie’s hand. “You’re going to find the excess dresses over - oh.” He stops short as his eyes slide over and see Louis. “Hey.”

Louis doesn’t have it in him to say much other than “hi,” with an awkward sort of half-wave.

It’s not that he’s shy or shocked or anything, really. It’s just that anytime Louis’ opened his mouth, Harry’s completely shut him down in the most humiliating, heartbreaking way. Louis just doesn’t have it in him anymore.

Which is why it’s odd when Harry smiles at Louis, dimple popping out. “Louis, can I talk to you for a minute?” Lottie glances between the two, clearly confused, but Louis can’t find it in him to care enough to speak. “And the overstock dresses are by the fitting rooms, love.” With a hand on the middle of Louis’ back, he drags him away with a serene smile on his face, even waving at a customer as they walk away. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

His voice is calm and even a bit soothing, so it takes Louis a moment to hear what’s actually been said. “Um,” he starts, trying to even his breathing and racing heart. “Shopping with my sister?”

“Yeah?” Harry laughs, but it’s clearly forced if the way the smile still stretched across face tenses is any give away. “Then why don’t you look surprised to see me?”

 _Because I can feel you in every breath I take_ , he doesn’t say (he could, but he feels like that may spark an angry reaction from Harry, and the last thing Louis wants is to make a scene at his soulmate’s workplace). “I don’t know what you want me to say?” He shrugs instead.

“Maybe you could tell me why!” Harry raises his voice. He must realize something, because the acidity drains from his voice, and he turns back into the charmingly attractive puppet he was at first. “You keep showing up everywhere, and I’m damn tired of it.”

“That’s what happens when you’re soulmates,” Louis answers honestly, shrugging because it’s the only valid answer. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, Harry, but we’re Fated to be together. We’re perfectly suited to love each other endlessly.” He takes in Harry’s scowl and feels his heart drop, and he probably should’ve just walked out of Harrods from the first burn of his mark. “That’s the only answer. It’s because we’re soulmates.”

“Louis,” a voice gasps, and that… that wasn’t Harry. “You met your soulmate.”

Nobody says anything. Lottie’s looking on in amazement and confusion - probably at the fact that Louis’ met his soulmate and hasn’t said a word to anybody - and Harry looks terrified for his life. Louis…

Well, Louis just doesn’t care. It’s gotten to the point where nothing surprises Louis anymore.

Because Fate just wants to fuck him.

“How,” Lottie starts, a lump in her throat causing her to pause. “How long have you known?”

“I -”

“What’s his name?”

Louis’ mark starts itching again. The look on Harry’s face, the passive, holier-than-thou, completely over the moment look on his face has Louis’ nail digging crevices into his mark. The only worse than this moment would be -

“Oh my _goodness_ ,” Lottie finally gasps. “He has to come to Thursday dinner!”

☕☕☕

Harry Styles will _not_ be seen at Louis’ family’s dinner, and he told them that much. He said he’d already had plans - and he does, his standing pub date with Perrie - but the full truth is, being in an enclosed space with Louis and his mum and his sister and whoever else is is in his family? Well, that’s just not going to happen.

Louis’ sister doesn’t take it for an answer, though. She handed him a perfume testing card that she used to write their mum’s address on before dragging Louis away to the Bridal Department, where they can disturb _Liam’s_ day, the fucker.

But Harry’s day, of course, only gets worse. Perrie walks over, her ‘service smile’ planted brightly on her face. “Harry,” she starts. It’s clear she isn’t happy, if her clawed grip on his forearm is any tell. “Did I hear that conversation correctly?”

“Uh,” and what is Harry supposed to say? That yes, Perrie may have met her soulmate and instantly fallen in love, and yes they were perfect for each other, but Harry thinks soulmates are more of a guideline - one by which he doesn’t plan by living. “I don’t - ”

“Harry Styles, is that boy your soulmate?” She doesn’t look angry, is the thing. If anything, she seems sad. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Pezza,” he sighs. “Our situation is complicated, okay?”

“What do you mean ‘complicated?’”

“We just want separate things.”

“What do you - ” And she stops short as if the thought suddenly hits her. “Harry, is this why you said you might be stopping your trip?”

Harry shrugs. “You aren’t going to be happy with my answer, Perrie.”

“ _Harry Styles,_ ” she gasps, very loudly, very angrily. A customer nearby whips her head around to them, and they both realize where they are, Perrie immediately smiles, speaking in a calm tone. “Your soulmate is anything but a roadblock.”

He rolls his eyes because really, Louis’ been a pretty big roadblock in his life so far. “I don’t like him,” he says. “And he doesn’t like me, so - ”

“Bullshit,” Perrie calls, and with the smile on her face and laugh that comes out with it, they probably look like they’re having a perfectly civilized conversation. “Louis is a perfectly nice person, and he wants his soulmate more than air. If anything, you’re probably the one stopping this!”

“Pez - ”

“And you’re going to his family dinner.”

“ _Pez._ ”

“Be a man, Harry Styles,” she barks, stepping away from him and shaking her head, loaded with disappointment. “Just be a man.”

☕☕☕

Louis couldn’t stop Lottie from telling their mum about the Thursday night guest. Even after Harry had given them a solid _no_ , his pushy sister still gave him the address, _insisting_ that he come anyway. So now, Louis’ got an excited house full of people trying to prepare for a dinner guest that isn’t going to show up.

The fear and anxiety that burns through him at the thought of disappointing his family is almost enough to mask the burn of his mark.

☕☕☕

Harry tries not to go to Louis’ family dinner. He really tries his hardest to avoid even thinking about the thing. And it would’ve worked if not for _Perrie_.

His whole night would have run a lot more smoothly if Perrie hadn’t brought him a change of clothes into work and practically shoved him into a cab after their shift.

He doesn’t know why, but Harry being friendly with his soulmate is a really big deal to her, even though she personally knows how little he cares for the label. And sure, Louis isn’t exactly an _evil_ guy or anything, but Harry still reserves the right to reject Fate’s path for him.

And yet, he’s still here, standing before Louis’ doorstep, on top of a welcome mat that says “Deakin/Tomlinson” and he’s confused, because this wasn’t supposed to be Harry’s life. His life was supposed to be in another country, living freely and without restrictions, no borders holding him back.

Instead, he’s in front of a beautiful home, with a beautiful family inside probably awaiting his arrival, and he’s actually bitter about it.

But he can’t be bitter for too long because a kind-looking woman opens the door. “Hello,” she smiles, and Harry knows he’s seen that smile before. It’s the same one Louis’ adorned the few times Harry’s been around to see it. “You must be Louis’ soulmate.”

And all of a sudden, Harry has the urge to just smile. He wants to make this special, if just to make Louis’ mum happy. Harry knows what it’s like to want to make your mother proud, and he wants to help Louis out, even if it’s just for tonight.

“Yes,” he smiles, reaching his hand out to shake hers. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. - ”

“Jay is fine,” she says. She bats her hand his way, and Harry laughs, enjoying the lightness of the air. “And I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t know what to call you.” Harry goes to introduce himself, but before he can, Jay is rambling further. “My baby doesn’t want me to know how happy he is, and that’s _fine_ , I suppose, but the least he could’ve done is told us your name.”

“It’s Harry,” he introduces himself. “Harry Styles.”

Jay’s eyes have a sparkle in them and her smile looks a tad wobbly. “That’s a lovely name,” she commented. “Now come inside, dear. The whole family has been dying to meet you.”

There’s a lot of pressure building in Harry’s chest, feeling as though the butterflies in his stomach are trying to escape through a northern path. Realistically, Harry knows that nothing can really go wrong. Even if he completely botches the night, he’ll still walk out of here the same as before.

But Louis will be hurt, and for some unexplainable, repulsive reason, that hurts _Harry_.

So he slides into the house, letting Jay close the door behind him. It’s cool in the house, a welcome change from the heat outside, and there’s a steady flow of chatter over the noise of the whirring air conditioner.

“Everybody’s in the family room,” Jay explains, putting her hand on his lower back as she guides him further into the house. “Louis was pretty insistent you weren’t coming, but we all told him to have some faith.”

It shouldn’t sting that Louis’ family was excited enough about his soulmate that they were trying to keep his spirits up. It should feel great knowing that Louis has a loving support system, but knowing that their hope has been useless and that as they thought they were building Louis up, Harry was tearing him down, well…

Well, it stings.

It doesn’t make him want to form an eternal bond with him or anything, but still.

Louis’ family (is he a Tomlinson or a Deakin?) has strong feelings regarding soulmates, if Harry’s short conversations with Louis, his sister, and his mother were to give anything away. They’ve all loved and devoted their lives to the idea of soulmates, and Harry just doesn’t understand why.

But if he wasn’t aware of their passion just from talking to them, their family room is a beacon for just how strongly they live by the traditional _Soulmate_ _Guidelines_. From wall to wall, the room is decorated in soulmate symbols, including the infinity sign, painted on the wall above the television.

Also painted on the walls are some of the most popular (read: cliche) soulmate quotes of all time, including “ _Souls are eternal_ ”, “ _There are no accidental meetings between souls_ ”, and - of course - “ _Together_ _we_ _are_ _one_ ”.

But that’s not what _really_ has Harry stopping in his tracks. The thing to draw him in - to completely pull all of his attention is a teacup - _his_ symbol - is painted on the wall in bold, black lines. It’s surrounded by other phrases and symbols - even one name. It takes a moment (longer than he’s proud of) for Harry to realize that it’s the entire family’s soul marking, proudly displayed on the wall of the family room.

What has Harry sucked himself into?

“Harry?”

Harry takes his gaze off the wall and looks to where Louis has stood from his seat. He’s surprised, clearly, but that’s not what Harry first notices. No, that would be the sinfully tight jeans he’s wearing and the soft red sweater he has over that. He’s the perfect mix of soft and sharp, and he’s just so, so small.

At least Fate has good taste.

Harry shakes himself out of his entranced state and approaches Louis. “Hey, babe,” Harry greets, smiling almost genuinely as he leans down to kiss Louis’ forehead. “Sorry if I’m a bit early.”

“It’s, uh - ”

And Louis doesn’t quite finish that thought. It’s not from being cut off or for a lack of something to say. It’s because Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ waist, and Harry can actually _feel_ Louis’ air flow stopping. It shouldn’t make him smug, but then again, he’s been feeling an awful lot of ways that he shouldn’t lately.

“Harry, hello,” a light voice cuts through. It’s Louis’ sister, the blonde girl who was with him at Harrods. “It’s lovely to see you again. We’re really excited you could show up.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Harry grins.

“Well, I’m glad.”

“Why don’t you come over here, Harry? You can meet the family,” Jay offers. Harry squeezes Louis’ waist and walks over to join Jay across the room. “You’ve already met Louis and Lottie, but you’ve yet to meet the rest of our little family - ”

“Little?” Louis snorts, and Harry smiles, because looking around, it’s pretty much a packed house.

“Ignore him,” Jay laughs, swatting in his direction before gesturing to the many other people in the room one by one. “This is Fizzy, and the first twins, Phoebe and Daisy, and - ”

“First twins?”

“Innit?” Lottie snickers. “Mum’s womb is like The Parent Trap.”

All of the adults laugh, but the joke seems to have run thin on the twins. “The younger ones, Doris and Ernest, are upstairs asleep,” Jay continues. “They ate before and they have an early morning - ”

Lottie cuts her mum off with another laugh. “Big meeting in the morning, they’ve got.”

“ _Charlotte_!” Jay scolds, but it’s clearly affectionate if the way she’s smiling is anything to go by. “Ignore her, she’s nothing but trouble,” she addresses Harry and, well, the conversation is not as weighted as Harry expected in a family obsessed with soulmates. But it’s definitely familiar - Lottie reminds him a fair amount of Gemma, and Jay has such a warm and open personality that it has Harry missing his own mum. “Anyway, that should be everyone except for the boys.” At that, Louis clears his throat in the corner of the room. “Don’t take offense to that, Louis William. You knew what I meant.”

They’re very welcoming, is the thing. From the moment he stepped through the door, the Tomlinson-Deakins have been nothing but friendly - not afraid to put a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm or shoulder, not afraid to make him feel at home.

They haven’t even started with the actual meal, and already Harry feels comfortable. All of the awkwardness that had been expected for the night is nowhere to be found, and it makes the entire room feel light, a truly pleasant environment.

It makes pretending to be okay with everything they stand for that much easier.

Jay tells Harry that he can take a seat, so he walks back to where Louis was standing in front of the couch, and sits there. Louis is clearly confused by the notion and hesitates., He eventually joins his soulmate, sitting down next to him, but keep sa comfortable amount of distance between them.

As much as Harry appreciates Louis’ endeavor to keep things civil, trying not to tip Harry off and upset him, it’s doing very little to convince Jay that everything is alright between them.

And that’s exactly Harry’s plan with this whole night. He wants Louis’ family not to worry about him, doesn’t want Jay and Lottie and maybe even Fizzy - because she looks old enough to understand the whole thing - to think Louis’ a lost cause just because he isn’t actually together with his soulmate. They can be the kind of soulmates that only occasionally see each other, or don’t talk at all, but first Harry needs to make sure Louis’ family can see how well Louis’ doing.

He needs to make sure Louis is okay.

He puts his arm around Louis’ waist again and pulls him into his side. “That’s better,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck as he leans down to kiss him. It has Louis tensing but then ultimately relaxing. “I don’t like having you so far.”

Jay coos and cups her hands on her chest, watching them with a serene smile, and honestly, Harry didn’t know soulmates could mean so much to one person. His mum with her soulmate was an absolute trainwreck, and even Gemma, who is happily married to her soulmate - is still so relaxed about everything. They don’t mention their soulmate status, or even act like they have one, when they’re around others. So to sit in this home, surrounded by a family full of optimistic souls is a lot, and Harry doesn’t know how they can have so much faith in complete strangers.

“So, how did you two meet?” Jay asks, taking a seat of her own across from them, the rest of the girls following suit. “Louis wouldn’t tell us anything about you, the spoilsport.”

Harry laughs and moves his hand under Louis’ shirt and - _holy shit soft skin_ \- rubs circles into his side. “It was a coffee shop. I ran into him and spilled my tea, and he just sat there smiling. Thought he was a bit mad, I did, but then he explained that we were soulmates, and... yeah.”

“Did you,” Lottie starts, not smiling like Jay or her sister. “Did you not feel it, like?”

Louis stiffens, and Harry knows exactly why, but he can handle this. “I did,” he answers honestly, leaning down to press another kiss to Louis’ neck. “But I’d just spilled an entire cup of hot tea over a really fit boy,” he laughs. “I’d thought it was just embarrassment until he explained it.”

“That’s really sweet,” Fizzy sighed. Her chin is resting on her palm, and she’s watching Harry and Louis in absolute admiration. “What did it feel like?”

“Well-”

“Like dying,” Louis cuts in. Harry wasn’t expecting his voice, let alone such a morbid answer, and it has him wanting to cackle. But then Louis continues speaking, and Harry finds himself enthralled. “Like every part of who I was came to an end, so I could be born again. It felt like every nerve on my body was on edge, being shocked to life, and all I could focus on was his voice and his hands.”

Harry didn’t know Louis’ feeling was so intense, and it sets about a deep pain, a strong feeling of guilt, inside of Harry, if only because he didn’t feel as much, as strongly. It helps him to see more clearly just why Louis was so mesmerized during their first meeting, but it doesn’t heal the ache deep in Harry’s bones that he can’t give Louis what he needs.

“That’s beautiful, Louis.”

It wasn’t Fizzy or Jay or Lottie or the twins that said it. It was a deeper voice, and when Harry turned, he could see that it was a man - Louis’ father, probably.

“Harry, this is Dan,” Jay introduced. “My soulmate, and Louis’ stepfather.” Harry stood up and shook his hand. “Tommy should be in the dining room setting the table. Let’s go join him.”

They all go into the dining room, and Harry is introduced to Lottie’s fiancé, Tommy. They look great together, and are definitely in love. It’s clear in the way they move together, communicating through looks and actions.

They unsurprisingly sit next to each other, but not before they motion for Harry to take the seat across from Lottie. It’s intimidating, of course, but she has such a sincere smile and doesn’t look to be wanting to do any harm, so Harry takes it.

He pulls Louis’ chair out first, and it’s clear that he’s trying to mask his disbelief. Harry’s always fancied himself a pretty good actor, but if he wants to convince the family that this is real, that Harry’s as into this as they are, then he really needs to calm Louis down, get him to understand what happening.

“Hey,” he addresses Louis quietly as he takes his seat. “You seem tense, babe. Why don’t you relax a little?”

“Uh,” Louis breathes. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little confused.”

Harry goes to respond, but Dan cuts him off before he can start by placing the first food dish of the night on the table. It’s only a salad, an opening course for the night, but it stilts their conversation, which is probably for the best if the eager faces of Louis’ family are telling of what to go by.

Dan takes his seat at the head of table, greeting Jay with a light kiss on the lips as he passes by her. “We let the youngest of the bunch get their food first,” he begins. “So exactly how old are you, son?”

“Dan - ”

“That’s alright,” Harry laughs, soothing Louis by placing his palm on his thigh. “I’m only 23.”

“Hmm,” Jay hums, blissful smile on her face. “I love that you’re so young. I had to wait until I was in me forties to find my soulmate. It warms my heart that my children are meeting theirs so young.”

A bitter, tense grin forms itself on Harry’s face without his permission, and he has to really try just to make it look more natural. “I’m happy to be a part of it.”

The salad bowl is passed to him by Lottie across the table. He nods in gratitude and uses the salad tongs to grab himself a small serving. From there he passes the bowl to Louis - after being pointed in the right direction by Tommy.

“So tell us about yourself, Harry,” Jay prompts, motioning him with a flick of her hand. “Your hobbies, your work, your family.”

“Well,” Harry clears his throat, trying not to feel awkward in the spotlight. “I have an older sister named Gemma, and my mum is called Anne.”

“And your father?”

Harry clears his throat again. Des isn’t exactly an everyday thought in his head, is the thing. “He’s not in the picture.”

Jay’s inquisitive smile is wiped off her face, immediately replaced with a sympathetic frown, her eyebrows creasing as well. “Oh,” she sighs. “I’m so sorry about that.”

Harry waves her off, putting his attention on his salad instead of at the eight faces watching him closely. “I never really liked, or even _knew_ , my father. Plus, my mum’s married to the love of her life, and she couldn’t be happier.”

Louis’ sister Fizzy jumps up a bit at her seat next to Tommy and Harry’s line of focus  immediately shifts up to her. “How did they meet?” she muses.

And that’s something Harry doesn’t actually know. He just remembers coming home from his shift at the bakery and watching his mum gliding through the house, smiling and humming and looking the happiest he’d ever seen her. He didn’t find out about Robin until about a month after they’d met, and being fifteen years old, he didn’t think to ask where they’d met (he was more focused on whether or not Robin would leave his mum).

“I’m not sure,” Harry shrugs. “They never really shared the story with us.”

“Oh,” Fizzy deflates. “Well, what are their soulmarks?”

“Well, my mum’s is a hydrangea, just a small black and white bouquet on the inside of her bicep,” Harry answers. “But Robin’s is the name Tilly and it’s on his hip. The right side I think - no, it’s the left side. I’m sure of that.”

Fizzy and the twins coo, but the older of the bunch look at him in confusion. Louis speaks up first. “I thought...” he trails off before picking up again. “Isn’t your mum’s name Annie?”

“It’s Anne,” Harry corrects. “But her soulmate didn’t exactly… like her?” He tries not to get choked up about how shitty Chad was to her. It still brings back a sour taste in his mouth when he thinks about his impact on their lives. “And Robin’s soulmate died just shortly after they met.” He looks at everybody and notices their stony faces, feeling uncomfortable about the information he shared. “But they’re happy and in love, so... ”

Nobody makes a move to talk at first and Harry feels a little confused but mostly irritated. Old fashioned families that believe strongly in soulmates are usually more conservative and don’t take lightly to rogue relationships that ignore soulmarks and Fate altogether.

It’s not like Harry’s ever going to have to see these people again, but having them sit there and judge his family and their decisions in life has him a bit on edge. It’s something he doesn’t take kindly to, especially when his mum’s soulmate was a giant arsehole, and staying with him would’ve made her absolutely miserable.

“That’s alright,” Jay finally chokes out in the silence. She’s smiling, but it looks positively forced, and it isn’t fooling anybody. “We’re not that used to rogue couples, but we don’t judge. We’re a very open-minded family.”

Harry chooses to just nod instead of pointing out that their judgmental stares weren’t very open-minded, but he wants to make a good impression, wants Louis’ family to like him. Because if he can’t be with Louis the way that Louis wants, he can at least help him with his family.

In the silence, Harry starts to eat his salad, not wanting to give himself another opportunity to make things awkward. The family around him chats quietly about their days, thankfully ignoring their guest for a few moments.

Harry startles when he feels a dainty hand rub against his knee, and when he looks to his right, he sees Louis smiling softly at him. His heart flutters gently in his chest, and his soulmark, a small distance away from his hand, burns hotly under the skin.

When the burn fades into something less pressing, Harry’s attention is pulled away by a tap on his left shoulder. He turns towards the seat next him, and sees one of the twins tapping on his shoulder. He’s not sure which one it is, but he raises his eyebrows in question anyway.

“Yes?” He asks.

The twin smiles and looks up at him. “What’s your middle name?”

Harry laughs, but does so under his breath so not as to grab anyone’s attention. “It’s Edward,” he answers. “And what’s yours, sweetheart?”

“Rose,” she answers smiling. “But Louis’ is William.”

“William is better than Edward, innit?”

The twin doesn’t get to respond because as she opens her mouth, Dan returns to the dining room - when did he leave? - and places a roast in the center, replacing the bowl that he must’ve taken back to the kitchen.

“Dig in, folks,” he jokes as he returns to his seat.

Harry doesn’t watch to see which twin grabs their food first, instead deciding to turn to where Jay is talking animatedly about a patient at work. He smiles and laughs along, grabbing a slice of the roast and a scoop of the vegetables when it’s his turn.

The family doesn’t ask him many more questions, probably fearing another awkward moment like before. But Harry is perfectly fine with that, happy to just sit there and listen to Fizzy talk about her upcoming homecoming, or Dan discuss getting Tommy and Louis to help him out in the garage over the weekend. It’s a very comfortable, homey feeling, and Harry finds himself melting into it.

“So how did you two meet?” Harry finds himself asking halfway through the meal, directing the question across the table in lieu of the momentary lull of conversation. He can’t help himself, not with the sickeningly beautiful way Lottie and Tommy are staring at each other.

Like every pair of head-over-heels soulmates do, they answer the question by first smiling at each other as though honored to get to talk about their love. Harry’s stomach turns.

“Well,” Tommy starts. “First you should know that our soulmark is the outline of a swan - ”

“Swans mate for life,” Lottie interrupts, looking Harry directly in the eye as she waxes poetic about how perfect her soulmark is. “They're fiercely protective, graceful, and beautiful.”

Tommy grins, not even the slightest bit put out by being interrupted. “Mine is on shoulder, but Lottie’s is right behind her ear.”

“We were at the fair about two months ago,” Lottie begins. “And Fizzy and I went into the photo booth, but halfway through our posing a head sticks its way into the booth and introduces himself.”

Tommy grabs Lottie’s hand and smiles down at it. “As the pictures were printing I saw her soulmark in one, where she had turned her head to look at Fizzy.” He shakes his head in a self-depreciating manner. “I couldn’t have waited if I tried. I needed to meet her right there.”

It’s a sweet story, it is, but it doesn’t cause the same reaction from Harry that it does to anyone else. Jay, Dan, Fizzy, and the twins are looking on in nothing but adoration and absolute pride. Louis, well, Louis doesn’t have the same look on his face everyone else. While Harry’s smiling politely, Louis’ smiling sadly, and Harry knows why.

Louis wanted that, the romantic story, not being able to wait one more moment to meet his soulmate. He wanted someone like Tommy, and the fact he didn’t get that has Harry feeling more than slightly guilty.

“We fell in love that day,” Lottie grins. “And we got engaged about two weeks later.”

She speaks so casually that Harry doesn’t register her words until about halfway through her next sentence, which Harry didn’t even attempt to listen to because they’d known each other for _two weeks_ before they got engaged. Even for how hopelessly in love they act, that’s still _way_ too soon, and he hopes that Jay doesn’t expect he and Louis to get engaged tonight, because she will definitely be upset.

Lottie continues speaking about something Harry can’t even make an effort to understand. He doesn’t actually rejoin the conversation until Tommy looks at him directly. “We’d love for you to come to the wedding.”

He can feel Louis stiffen at his side and he can’t find it in him to be insulted; instead, he nods along and puts a smile on his face. “I’d love to. When is it?”

“Not for a few months,” Lottie waves her hand at him. “We’ll send you an invite in the next month or so.”

“Sounds good,” Harry nods. “Now where are you registered at?”

☕☕☕

Louis couldn’t believe how the night was going. It was like a switch was flipped and Harry became the soulmate he’d always wanted overnight. He didn’t know how it happened, but he wasn’t going to question it, not when Harry was sitting among his family, smiling and fitting in.

Louis is confused, of course he is. It’s a complete 180 from just a few days ago. But a little confusion is worth dealing with, especially when Harry’s got his big hand wrapped on Louis’ thigh, talking to Jay about children and weddings and  -

And Louis’ soulmark is burning in the most delightful way.

Too soon, the most wonderful night of Louis’ night is coming to an end and Louis finds himself walking Harry out to the cab. He knows his mum is watching out the kitchen window, so he doesn’t want to act too inappropriately.

“Thank you for tonight,” he grins, feeling absolutely elated to just be holding hands on their walk to the car. “They loved you in there.”

“That’s what I hoped for,” Harry returns, swinging their hands as the walk towards the front curb. The cab isn’t there yet, so Louis wants to prolong this moment forever. “And thanks for playing along.”

“Yeah,” Louis nods along, a little confused, but too happy to care.

They make it to the curb and Louis feels like he’s floating, high off of a great night and the great company Harry provided. He almost doesn’t want to let Harry leave, doesn’t want to say goodbye.

“So I was thinking - ”

“Look, Louis,” Harry interrupts, and Louis shuts his mouth, but smiles up at Harry because this could be it; this could be where Harry apologizes and they start their life together, finally. “For the wedding, just say I’m sorry and make something up, will you?”

Louis doesn’t register the question at first, doesn’t understand what exactly Harry’s saying. “I - ”

“Tell them I have to work.”

“But you don’t even know the date,” Louis says, puzzled. He doesn’t think they mentioned when it was, still deciding on the date themselves. “You could request the day off.”

Harry laughs, but it’s cold and Louis’ heart drops; he doesn’t think he’s getting that apology. “Louis, c’mon. You know I can’t go to the wedding.”

“I do?” He asks, perplexed and still unsure of what Harry’s saying. Nothing’s making sense, and the itch that had magically disappeared earlier in the night is back and worse than ever, attacking his soulmark with fervor.

“Well, I’d assume you did, seeing as you played along in there. I didn’t think you were that _stupid_.”

He spits with the last word to leave his mouth, and Louis flinches, feeling ashamed at how high his hopes had been set. Somehow, Harry’s managing to fuck up even more than previously thought possible. Louis doesn’t know what to say, how to act, where to go, what movement is okay to make…

He feels completely out of his element.

“We both knew what this was,” Harry retaliates, nothing but anger and bitterness tracing his tone. “I saved you from having to say I wasn’t coming, made it so it wasn’t awkward, and now we’re done - ”

As Harry says “done”, a lump forms in Louis’ throat. His heart stops and his brain stops and his body stops and he just -

Stops.

“I helped you out,” Harry finishes. “So now we can forget this whole ‘soulmate’ thing.”

And Louis is stuck. Because he doesn’t understand what Harry means when he says he was helping Louis. Because as far as Louis is concerned, Harry didn’t do anything but get Louis’ hopes up and then crush them without so much as a warning.

“I don’t,” Louis pauses, thoughts stuttering through his head, not sure of what to say. He doesn’t know how to handle this, isn’t prepared for such an egocentric move from his self-obsessed soulmate. “So you were just going to make my mum and my sisters and everybody fall in love with you first, and then completely disappear?”

It justifiably leaves Harry speechless. His thick lips are parted slightly, and Louis almost wants to smile for finally turning something around on Harry, for the first time having the upper hand. He doesn’t smile, though - he can’t, not when his heart is pounding, having to beat twice as hard to stop itself from completely falling apart.

He’s furious. He’s tired and sad and completely thrown off track, but his anger is winning. “You were just going to make a lasting impression on them too and then never see them again?” He demands. “What happens if they ask after you? What happens when I can’t take it anymore and become bitter like you? What do I say then?” Harry’s shocked by the questions, that much is true. His eyes are wide and mouth is open, and it’s like Louis is finally getting his feeling through to him. “You’re completely selfish, Harry, and I don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve me.”

Louis’ monologue seems to work for about 30 seconds before Harry changes completely, glowering at Louis as a cruel smirk forms on his face. “And somehow I’m still the one walking out on you,” he says. Funny, right?”

The taxi isn’t there yet, and the road is still empty. But with his last words, Harry takes off, turning and walking down the road, fleeing from any possible confrontation by Louis.

But Louis doesn’t have it in him to retort, because Harry’s right. He’s absolutely correct; no matter how much Louis thinks he deserves Harry’s kindness, his consideration, regardless of knowing that he’s the one who deserves better of the two them, he’ll never get better. Harry’s the one leaving. Harry’s the one who gets better, and Louis is stuck with the mess.

And a mess it is. His family still inside, drunk off of the night, happy for Louis and probably waiting for him inside, wanting to talk about how wonderful, how _perfect_ , his soulmate is. But Louis doesn’t want to talk about that - he wants to grab his things and leave. He wants to spend forever camped out in his bed, hiding away from the world, hiding away from the shame he feels.

His hand flies to his soulmark, digging in as his mind floods with thoughts of worthlessness and his stomach sets with unease. Just as everything was looking up, Harry has to fuck everything up, and Louis is back to destroying every part of him that doesn’t feel trashed.

When he finally pulls himself together, gets the lump out of his throat and stops himself from crying, he heads inside. He can’t stop the itch from burning through his arm, so he’ll just have to deal with it as he goes about, pretending to be okay.

Pretending only works for about half a second. His mum had been watching from the window and could see Harry yelling at Louis, had witnessed every second of the worst moment of Louis’ life.

So far.

He’s got to stay optimistic for a worse day because being soulmates with Harry hasn’t exactly worked out in his favor.

Appearing completely calm, Jay guides Louis up the stairs with a smile, telling the rest of the family that she just wants to talk for a minute, but that dessert is definitely coming up soon.

It’s not until they’re alone in Jay’s room with the door closed behind them that Louis breaks down. He couldn’t stop it if he wanted to - and he really wants to. The entire emotional roller coaster that Harry’s put him through has him absolutely sobbing, big fat tears falling down his face as he hiccups back every word he’s trying to say.

Every angry word directed at Louis from Harry’s end is running through his head, making it even _more_ difficult to stop the tears.

His mum’s there, of course she is, hugging him close and walking him over to the bed, and sitting them both down the edge. Her soft hums are dancing around the room as she tries to calm Louis down, wanting him to let it all out, but also wanting him to breathe.

“It’s alright,” Jay whispers, rubbing her hand in a circle on his back. “You can cry all you want, Boo.”

Louis tells his mum everything, from how stoic Harry had been when they met to how cold and angry he’d been outside just moments prior. He cries a lot, and hugs Jay even more. He tells her about his soulmark, and she chastises him for itching it. She tells him to stop, but they both know that Louis won’t be able to. He tells her about how completely empty and confused he feels all the time, and Jay tells him that it’s completely okay.

It just doesn’t feel okay at all.

☕☕☕

It’s a little upsetting for Harry to be at a party without Perrie, but she just didn’t feel up to attending Jesy’s ‘little get-together’. Ever since she met her soulmate, she hasn’t wanted to go out as much. Tonight, she claimed that her lunch date with her soulmate wore her out, so Harry doesn’t even want to know what they ate.

There aren’t not many people he knows, to be honest. A few of his co-workers are there, but it’s mostly Jesy and her roommate’s friends occupying the flat.

After Jesy swings by to give her obligatory “thank you for coming” host speech, she’s off and Harry finds himself nursing his vodka in the kitchen, watching through the dimmed lights as everybody socializes and has a good time.

He doesn’t feel left out like he would’ve in secondary school, knows that not everybody at a party is worth talking to. It proves to be true when halfway through his second drink, a short, slim body slides between him and the counter to grab the bottle of Chase Harry had been pouring his drinks out of.

The girl doesn’t excuse herself or ask Harry to step back, just squeezes her way through and drinks out of the bottle. It’s entertaining to watch, and Harry stays where he is, just to see if the girl even notices him standing there.

She does, of course, but it’s not until she’s downed a solid amount of Chase and stolen the bowl of Cheetos from a group of people across the table as they turn around to take a selfie.

When she does acknowledge Harry, it’s with a smile and a handshake, one that Harry immediately accepts, delighted with her party etiquette.

“I’m Leigh-Anne,” she introduces herself as she finally steps back from Harry’s personal space. “Thanks for letting me cut in there for a mo’.”

Harry shakes his head, laughing as he does. “It was no problem, honest. Probably the most fun I’ve had all night.”

“I hope not!” She challenges. “If watchin’ me nick some crisps is the most fun you’re havin’ then you really need to have another glass.” She reaches back across Harry and grabs the bottle she had drunk from previously. “You fancy some Chase?” She asks. Harry holds up his glass, showing that he still has a few drinks left, but Leigh-Anne eaves him off. “Nonsense,” she scoffs. “You need more, babes.”

She picks up the Chase and pours a wobbly run into Harry’s cup. She places her index finger under his cup and raises it until he gets the hint and starts to drink. She won’t let him stop to add some fizzy drink to his cup, keeping him drinking until the glass is empty and he has to gasp for air when he’s finally finished it all.

Leigh-Anne’s laughing at him when he can finally focus - though it’s not  complete focus, now that his prior drinks along with this one are stunting his senses just the slightest bit.

“Now that you’ve had a bit to drink,” she teases, “I can finally talk to you. Start with your name, love.”

Harry’s a little proud that he’s managed to get Leigh-Anne’s approval. He’s not sure why it feels so good to have her positive attention, but he doesn’t want to question it. “I’m Harry,” he introduces, “and I think I may be tipsy.”

Leigh-Anne giggles, leaning back for a moment before she’s looking back at him. “You’re swaying, love,” she says. “Can’t keep still, can ya? I’d say you’re definitely tipsy.”

“I have you to thank for that - ”

“That you do, Harry. That you do.” Leigh-Anne takes another drink, emptying her glass completely, and then goes to pour herself another.. “So tell me about yourself, love. Do you have a soulmate?”

A thought flashes through Harry’s head of Louis, a picture of his devastated face a week ago, how destroyed he was at Harry’s callous attitude toward their soulmate status. He considers that Leigh-Anne could be flirting with him, and even though the mark on his thigh screams when he’s with anyone who isn’t Louis, , he still wants to keep his options open for a night or two.

“No,” he lies. “I was never into that whole thing anyways.”

Leigh-Anne doesn’t get Harry’s hint, doesn’t take his leaning into her space as the flirting it is; instead, looking almost outraged at Harry’s words. “You’re not into it?” she asks. “Not into what exactly, mate? Being happy and content with the person you’re Fated to be with?”

It has Harry wanting to roll his eyes, but he stops himself, knowing that getting out of this conversation alive won’t happen if he steps all over soulmates. “So I take it you’ve met yours then?” He questions instead.

“I have, yeah,” she smiles. Harry thinks he’s in the clear if how happy she looks just _thinking_ about her soulmate is anything to go by. “Got cursed with this quirky double soulmark, and I thought I’d never find her, but my best friend Cara works with my Perrie, and she set us up.”

Harry’s glad he listened. He’d wanted to out, wanted to leave this conversation of soulmates and forever, but he’d stuck around, and he’s so glad he did.

Because this is her. This is the soulmate that Perrie’s so in love with, but won’t tell Harry a thing about. This is the girl that exhausted _Perrie Edwards_ to the point where she didn’t want to come drink free alcohol.

Leigh-Anne is obviously magical.

“You’re Perrie’s soulmate?” He asks, already knowing the answer but unable to get over his amazement.

“You know her?”

Harry chuckled. Nobody knows him as well as Perrie does. They have set dates every weekend and they spend every working hour together. “She’s my best friend,” is the only way he can put it.

Leigh-Anne appears to be deep in thought for a short while, but then it seems like something hits her. “Harry!” she shouts. “You’re the arsehole trying to leave the country, aren’t you?” He doesn’t get a chance to answer before she’s shoving at his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re just going to split and leave my girl all alone.”

“I’m not leaving her alone,” he protests. “She has my number and she has you. I’ll call her every week, and you’ll be there to cheer her up when she misses me.”

Leigh-Anne nods along, a small grin that she tries to hide playing on her face. She’s thinking about Perrie, obviously, if the small blush on her cheeks is any sign.

It’s sweet, and Harry’s glad to see that Leigh-Anne’s as gone for Perrie and Perrie is for her. It makes something warm settle in his stomach, and has the added effect of making him want to get absolutely drunk.

“Hey,” he interrupts her train of thought, struggling not to laugh at the way she jumps in surprise. “You look like you enjoy a good time. Do you want to get me absolutely pissed?”

“I really, really do,” she giggles. “Let’s start with tequila.”

There’s tequila on the table, about four unopened bottles next to three opened ones. There’s  a stack of plastic shot glasses alongside them because Jesy knows what the fuck she’s doing. Leigh-Anne reaches over for an unopened bottle - smart - and a handful of shot glasses, lining them up and filling them all halfway.

It’s in the middle of their shots that the soulmark on Harry’s thigh burns and he immediately sobers up.

Well, he’s not sober, but it sure as hell feels like it with the way all of his energy goes into feeling and slightly aroused at the singe of his mark.

He doesn’t even say goodbye to Leigh-Anne, can’t make his body do that when his senses are hindered, his inhibitions are lowered, and Louis’ in the building. He’s only able to finish his shot, slamming it down before he’s on the prowl, focused only on finding Louis and truly letting him have it.

It’s not in the dining room or family room or a bedroom that Harry finds him.

He’s leaving the bathroom, wrapped around someone - a man, a _blond_ man - giggling about something. It’s infuriating to watch, Louis leaning against somebody, looking sleep-soft and leaving a _bathroom_ of all places. It has Harry seething and marching over, pushing past a few crowds of people to grip Louis’ shoulder and pull him away from his _friend_.

He only gets about halfway down the hall before a hand on his own shoulder stops him. Before he even turns around, he knows it’s Louis’ friend from earlier, so when he turns and see that he’s right, he rolls his eyes.

“Can I help you?” Harry asks, words only slightly slurred. He also might be speaking slower than normal, but this kid doesn’t know that.

“Yeah, mate,” the blonde man says and _Oh_ , he has an Irish accent. “You can tell me what the feck you’re doin’ with me friend.”

“Niall,” Louis laughs, not exactly sounding drunk, but definitely on the happier side of tipsy. “It’s okay, this is Harry.”

Instead of soothing Niall like Louis probably thought he was doing, Niall looks even more enraged. Harry’s guessing Louis’ probably shared stories with him, which means the two must be pretty close. And they were in the bathroom together and -

Harry can’t stay to think about anything else, lest he punch Niall in the face for getting too close to his boy -

His soulmate -

Louis. For getting to close to Louis.

Harry walks down the hall, ready to yell at Louis for even _thinking_ about being with somebody else, but before they get anywhere, Louis starts leaning into Harry’s side and making happy sounds. The alcohol, combined with his jealousy, anger, and the feeling of Louis touching him, has Harry feeling a thousand different emotions, and before he can rationalize his actions, he’s dragging Louis into a random bedroom.

The door is barely shut behind them before Harry launches himself across the room, deft hands placing themselves on Louis’ neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Immediately, all the shock he felt the first time he saw Louis, all of the static and the heat, returns to him, but tenfold. Now it feels like he’s sharing in Louis’ pleasure.

Harry’s tongue seeks out Louis’, slipping into his mouth as his lips part around a small moan and Harry’s entire body _sings_. Each and every nerve comes alive, and even the slightest breath feels like the most expensive massage in the world. It’s as though he’s feeling everything, but only feeling Louis.

Because Louis feels like everything.

And Harry wants more.

He backs Louis into the wall, smiling at the squeak Louis makes at the rough contact and loving every minute of it. His hands grab harshly at Louis’ thighs, squeezing and pressing bruises into them, wanting to make them burn even half as much as Harry’s does whenever Harry sees Louis. He wants it to feel like he’s got a soulmark on his thighs, both of them, along with the one on his forearm. He wants Louis to know he’s his.

It must be the alcohol, all of the hazy goodness that comes with being drunk, that has Harry reacting so strongly. The vodka and tequila will be to blame if anybody brings up how absolutely jealous Harry was at seeing Louis with that _boy_ . _Niall_.  

In grabbing and handling Louis’ thighs so angrily, he accidentally pulls Louis’ crotch into contact with his own, causing the both of them to make the same devastated noise as their hardnesses rub against each other. Harry wants to hear Louis make that sound every day for the rest of his life.

And that makes him angry.

He pulls away from the kiss, feeling himself getting carried away too quickly. Louis, clearly not feeling the same, starts to pepper kisses down his neck and he sucks a bruise as he reaches Harry’s jugular, but Harry isn’t having any of it.

Harry wants to mark Louis up, not to have Louis’ mark on him.

He flips Louis around, pushing him into the wall. He’s smart enough to turn his head so he doesn’t give himself a black eye, and it has the added benefit of having him stand parallel with the wall, his entire body against it.

And of course, because Fate knows what it’s doing and paired them together so well, Louis moans. It’s a broken, airy little thing, and it’s accompanied by his hips thrusting forward, trying to gain friction against the wall.

It’s probably the hottest thing Harry’s ever seen, and that somehow makes it worse. So he grabs Louis’ hips, pulling them off the wall. Things need to slow down a bit, but Louis’ making it impossible. He’s greedy and eager and _sliding his hand down his crotch_.

“Stop that,” Harry chastises, pulling Louis’ hands away from his body and trapping them both above him on the wall in one big hand.

Louis whines and tries to thrust against the wall again, even though there’s no way he’s breaking Harry’s grip. It’s kind of hot, how whiny and pushy Louis is, but still somehow submitting to Harry. He’s not using his full strength to move, knowing full well he could touch himself if he really tried -f he really wanted to.

So no, Louis isn’t actively trying to get out. It’s more of a show, more of him acting like he doesn’t want to give up control, but it’s pretty clear that he just wants to submit, to melt and let Harry do what he needs. For the second time tonight, Harry finds himself wanting to keep everyone else in the world away from this beautiful boy.

“Are you hard?” Harry asks rhetorically. Of course he knows the answer, felt the proof only moments before. He just feels like he needs to talk, wants to assault Louis’ senses, make him feel every inch of him. “I am,” he adds on as he shoves his bottom half against Louis’ bum.

And Louis positively sobs at it, grinding back against him, whimpering and whining underneath his breath like this moment is too intense for him to handle.

“Slow down, baby,” Harry growls, hand tightening on Louis’ waist, making his hips still.

It’s quiet, nearly silent save for their pants, and there’s little to no movement between them. It’s a blissfully peaceful moment, and it would stay that way for a bit longer if not for the constant, harsh _zip_ beneath their veins, pushing them to go _fast, fast, fast_ and finally get to where they were made to go.

In a sudden burst of movement, fuelled by adrenaline and the strength of their bond, Harry slides the hand on Louis’ waist around to rub at the bulge in his jeans and attaches himself to the side of Louis’ neck, sucking hard in one fluid motion, making Louis’ jaw positively drop.

Harry keeps up the hard pressure of his hand as he adds a hint of teeth to the love bite he’s giving Louis, who absolutely _keens_ with it.

All moments have to come to an end, though, and this one does when Louis, in the midst of all the pleasure, whispers, “I love you.”

And Harry knows Louis isn’t saying it to him, knows he’s not been good enough to Louis to warrant such a response. He’s probably saying it to the moment, or the feeling, or possibly even saying it to Fate in regards to making the moment and the feeling happen.

Harry knows that Louis isn’t saying it to him. But it doesn’t make him freak out any less, doesn’t make him flee the room any slower. He just steps away from the wall, and Harry must’ve been holding him up because Louis drops like a puppet without strings.

It’s the alcohol, Harry tries to convince himself. It’s because he’s drunk, he tries tell himself. But try as he might, he knows that if he were sober, this would’ve still happened, and he would have felt it more, wanted it _more._

So Harry runs.

He tries, but he can’t forget the sounds of Louis’ wails.. If the best sound Harry’s ever heard is Louis’ laugh, then the worst is the despaired sobs he can hear as he makes his way out of the room.

He can pretend he didn’t hear them, but he can’t forget. The sound is permanently etched inside of him, taking up residence in the hole it tore through his heart.

☕☕☕

When Louis was four years old, his father left his mum. He doesn’t entirely recall what happened, as his mum never spoke of it afterwards, but he can remember a few key points. He can remember that his father met his actual soulmate. He remembers that the last time he saw his father, there were no caring words or apologies - just a pat on the head and “see you soon, kiddo” before the door slammed behind him, barely stopping the wineglass him mum threw. His memory reminds him that his mum cried nonstop for two weeks, and for that alone, he never tried to contact his father.

When Louis was six, his mum met Mark. Looking back, Mark was a saint, coming into their lives when things were looking spectacularly low. With him came happiness and total, complete love. From day one it was clear that this was something special.

Lottie came first, the oldest of Mark and Jay’s bunch. Fizzy was next, followed by the twins, Phoebe and Daisy. There would’ve been more, Louis’ sure of it, except Mark met _his_ soulmate as well. They tried to make it work, they really did - fifteen years and four children together (plus Louis, who Mark had come to love like his own) wouldn’t go to waste just because Mark met a 30-something with his name on her collarbone.

And it didn’t go to waste. Because even though Mark couldn’t resist the pull, and he and Jay broke it off, Mark stayed in their lives. They weren’t necessarily together, but they were a family.

It wasn’t until Louis was 22 that his mum met Dan. They knew they were soulmates instantly - if the sparks when the touched weren’t a strong enough sign, then the words they spoke, matching each other’s soulmarks gave it away.

They got married in July, about four months after Doris and Ernest were born. Louis was the best man, and it was there, standing at the altar behind Dan, that Louis knew that whatever life threw at him, no matter how hard things seemed, that Louis would wait for his soulmate.

Because his soulmate would make everything right again.

Despite his optimism and overall hope, he never imagined being abandoned by them, feeling like a cheap, meaningless one night stand as he cried out for just… something.

But that’s what happened, and Louis is heartbroken.

☕☕☕

Harry’s a shitty person - he knows this. If his blatant ignorance regarding how Louis feels about soulmates wasn’t enough, then Friday night definitely instilled the thoughts in him. Leaving Louis like that, hearing him screaming long after he’d actually stopped - it burned a certain feeling into Harry.

He can’t stop thinking about it, is the thing. He doesn’t quite know if he regrets what he did, but he’s starting to question his take on the situation. He finds himself wondering if it’s really the right way to go about things - if maybe his soulmate is _truly_ meant for him, if all his avoidance is just prolonging the inevitable.

These thoughts are why Harry, on his break, goes over to the Bridal department to talk to somebody who might know a thing or two about soulmates.

“Liam,” Harry greets, leaning against the display case where Liam’s adjusting some of the more pricey garters they’re selling. “You have a minute to talk, bud?”

Liam nods, closing the display and locking it with his key. “Let’s go up front, then.”

Cara’s there, sitting behind the desk, typing something on the computer. They must be catching up on their inventory and recovery, then. Bridal is usually dead on weekdays before 5, so this must be their product based work, the work they do when they aren’t with customers.

Liam gestures to the chair across from his at another station as he takes a seat himself. His desk is perfect - not a surprise - and Harry finds himself wondering how he can even associate with Liam sometimes because really…

“What can I do you for?” he asks, a puppy dog smile on his lips.

Harry shakes his head, clearing his mind so he can get down to the issue at hand. “I met my soulmate,” he begins, watching as Liam’s expressive eyebrows jump. He can even hear Cara stop typing, not moving, but clearly listening intently now. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“Uh,” Liam chuckles, a dopey confused look on his face. “I mean, you should probably take them out on a date, and just… start living, I guess?”

“No, I - ”

“I don’t think I can really help you, Harry,” Liam continues. “It’s more of a feeling thing. You do what feels right.”

Harry feels a hint of regret for coming to Liam with this problem. Clearly going to the world’s happiest man, one so thoroughly in love with his soulmate, about possibly ignoring his soulmark and Fate altogether - maybe that wasn’t a great idea.

“I don’t know what feels right,” Harry confesses, trying to explain his situation in a way that doesn’t make him out to be as much the massive dick as he currently feels. “I don’t really want a soulmate. I want to travel, and he’s getting in the way of that.”

Cara whips her head towards him, clearly done pretending not to eavesdrop. He doesn’t blame her, though, as he’s just confessed to finding his soulmate as an interference rather than a blessing. Liam, on the other hand, doesn’t even express his surprise; instead, he goes straight to anger and disappointment.

And Harry doesn’t blame him, not really. It’s the exact way he felt the first time he saw Chad treat his mum like rubbish. Or the first time he saw Chad treat Gemma like rubbish. Or anytime he sees anybody treat anybody like rubbish.

Because that’s kind of what he feels like.

Rubbish.

“That’s so selfish, Harry.” Liam says, and he sounds appalled. “Your soulmate has waited for you, and all you care about is _travelling_?”

It sounds familiar, this conversation. It resembles the one he’d had with Louis after his family dinner, in which Louis had called him selfish and and undeserving. The feeling is the same as well - the utter shame in the pit of his stomach.

It’s not right, though. Harry shouldn’t feel ashamed about not wanting to give up his dreams. He’s waited most of his adult life to gallivant around the world, and now that he’s finally trying to make it happen, he shouldn’t _have_ to be selfish. He shouldn’t _have_ to consider Louis.

“But -”

“No, Harry,” Liam yells, and luckily the department is dead, else he might be risking his job just by raising his voice. “I can’t believe you’re even _considering_ abandoning your soulmate.”

“He’s not what I want!” Harry protests. “I’ve never wanted my soulmate. It doesn’t always work out, Liam. My mum never liked her soulmate, and she’s in love with somebody else now.”

“That’s _one_ case, though,” Liam argues. “Most people feel completely empty trying to live without their soulmates. They’re your other half, and you _need_ them.”

“It won’t work!” Harry fights back. “He wants nothing more than to be with his soulmate, but I just want to see the world. I don’t _need_ him to live my dream, and I just wanted some advice on how -”

Liam scoffs, cutting Harry off, leveling him with a glare. “Here’s some advice: make it work. Do what you have to because soulmates are-”

“You don’t have to make it work.” Cara interrupts, Liam and Harry’s heads turning to her in response. She has a solemn look on her face, something about her set lips and bitter eyes that has Harry sensing something off, something personal.

“Of course he does-”

“Liam,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Not everybody _has_ to be with their soulmate.”

“Yes they do,” he laughs humorlessly. “Fate literally paired them together, they _have_ to be together.”

Cara scowls at Liam, levelling him with steely eyes. It’s a sensitive subject, Harry knows. He’s not sure exactly what Cara’s soulmark is, as she keeps it hidden in respect for her current girlfriend, Annie. But he knows that Annie had the name “Jamie” written on the side of her left ring finger.

Cara and Annie have been together for 4 long years, and the entire store is fond of the couple, taking to inviting Annie to parties and get-togethers that should, under normal circumstances, be for employees only.

The truth about their soulmate status came out only a few months prior. The two were being teased about marriage plans and child plans and just their future in general. Mary from Grocery grabbed Annie’s hand and saw the name written; Annie had shamefully pulled her hand away.

It was a shock, and for a few weeks whenever anybody looked at either of the two, it was with pity. Harry didn’t understand it because they were so happy together, and just because they aren’t soulmates doesn’t mean they can’t be happy and in love.

He never voiced it, though, too afraid that he’d be an outlier and that everyone would look down on him for his different (but totally valid) opinion. Instead, he tried to show Annie and Cara as much love as he could, to show them his support and desire to see them stay together forever, to prove everyone wrong.

So it’s a delicate topic, and seeing how somber Cara looks gives him an insight to just how sensitive it is.

“I’m not saying to never speak to him again, just…” she trails off. “Maybe try to see what it’s like without him. Fate can choose some things for you, but you can’t let it control your life, Hazza.”

☕☕☕

Louis loves his job. He likes being behind the scenes at Britain’s largest radio station, and he _loves_ meeting famous people. Or well known people. Or any people, really.

The work can be a bit insufferable at times, but he _likes_ it. What he _doesn’t_ like is being talked down to, and made to feel like a lesser person just because he’s an assistant. If it were up to him, he’d have been on the radio long ago, but he can’t see that happening. Not with a boss like Nick Grimshaw, anyway.

That’s not to say that Nick isn’t good at his job, or even a friendly guy on occasion. In fact, there are times when Louis watches on, admiring Nick, his work ethic, and his charisma.

But to say that Louis likes Nick, well, that’s just blasphemy.

They have the same personality. Their sense of humor and outlook on life and goals for the future… If Louis were half a foot taller, they could be twins.

Though Louis _is_ more attractive. He feels as though that’s an important thing to point out.

So when Louis goes to Nick for help, actively seeking his advice and hoping to take comfort in him, it says a lot.

“Hey, Nick?” Louis starts, tapping his knuckles against the studio door, watching as Nick stops his conversation with Laura and Matt. He’s leaning back in his sit, chuckling along with them as he turns his attention to where Louis stands. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Not if you’re quitting,” Nick jokes. The others laugh, but Louis just doesn’t have it in him. Lately, after everything that’s happened, it feels like he can’t be joyful - like every breath he takes is a struggle and the fact that he’s standing here, functioning, is a true miracle.

Nick senses the tone, and the stupid grin that takes up half his face is immediately wiped away. He nods and sits up in his chair, tidying up the folders in front of him and standing to walk out the room.

He stops as he’s passing by Louis, gripping his wrist loosely where it rests on the the doorknob. “You alright?” he mouths.

Louis shakes his head and walks away, leading Nick out of the room and into his office.

Since Harry left Louis abandoned in Eleanor’s bathroom at the party, he’s torn his soulmark apart. The skin around it scabbing over from how hard he’s attacked it with his nails, focusing all his strength into scratching at the mark and not breaking down.

The mark doesn’t fade, though. And that’s what makes Louis anxious, the fact that he can rip apart his skin, make himself bleed, and destroy his arm, but that mark, that symbol of “eternal love,” is going to be there forever whether Louis likes it or not, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.

Nick’s office is hardly used, only for private or business conversations . There’s not one personal touch besides the picture frame on the desk, but it’s a picture of Nick himself. It had made Louis laugh the first time he saw it, but looking at it now, it has him fearing what Fate has in store for him.

“So,” Nick starts, walking around his desk and taking a seat. He levels Louis with a look until he takes a seat himself. “You’re not actually quitting, are you?”

Louis laughs, but it feels hollow, meaningless. “No.”

“Good,” Nick nods, shuffling aimlessly through the few papers on his desk. “I don’t think I could work without you here.”

If it were any other day, under any other circumstances, Louis thinks he might laugh. Probably get cocky, talking about how he knew Nick liked him as an employee. He may have joked about how if he’s such an asset to the team, maybe he deserved a raise -

But it’s not another day, and he’s here for a reason, and making jokes is something he can’t do.

“I want to talk about soulmates,” he says instead, getting straight to the point. “I could really use your advice.”

“I’m not the best person to talk to, Tommo,” Nick scoffs, a hint of laughter in his voice. “My soulmate can’t stand the sight of me, said I just got in the way of things and never even gave me a chance. He left before I could even ask him to stay, so - ”

Nick stops talking upon seeing Louis’ reaction. He feels like crying, listening to Nick make a joke of what happened to him, and what’s currently happening to Louis. His face must give something away because Nick’s entire demeanor changes. The grin drops off his face and a cloud of sympathy replaces it. “Oh, _Louis_.”

And for the first time in the entirety of Louis’ career at the BBC, Nick Grimshaw hugs him.

It’s warm, the hug - that’s Louis’ first observation. For all the he plays off being a cold, pretentious, elitist, Nick Grimshaw gives an amazing hug. And Louis positively melts into it.

It’s nice to have somebody that understands, someone that not only relates to what Louis’ going through, but lived through the same experience. They’re the same person, essentially.

Only Louis is far more handsome.

“I’m so sorry,” Nick mumbles into Louis’ neck. He’s not letting go, and while previously this kind of comfort from Nick of all people would be mildly (extremely) uncomfortable, right now it’s exactly what he needs.

“He doesn’t want anything to do with me,” Louis mumbles, keeping his hold on Nick. “He doesn’t want a soulmate at all. He - He just - ” Louis hiccups and has to stop himself from sobbing on Nick’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he soothes. “Hey.” Nick pulls back and looks at Louis’ face, splotchy, and trying to control his emotions so he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Nick “This is hard,” he continues. “You’re in a really tough spot right now.”

Louis nods. He knows this already. From the moment Harry walked away from him outside that coffee shop, Louis’ known this would be hard. That’s why it hurts so much now, because he’d put his trust in Harry far too many times, and each time he’d taken Louis’ heart and stomped on it.

“Just because you’re soulmates doesn’t mean you’re meant for each other,” Nick tells him, face serious, with his hands on Louis’ shoulders to anchor him.

“But - ”

Nick shakes his head, cutting Louis off before he can really start. “Just hear me out,” he propositions. “Sometimes Fate is wrong. Fate says that our soulmates may be perfect, but we don’t always end up with them.”

It’s the dark side of soulmates, Louis knows, but he’d always figured it was rare, having only met a few people who aren’t bound to their soulmates.. Listening to Nick talk about it, give him advice about the situation that he himself is currently in… It hurts.

“And as much as it hurts,” Nick laments, “as much as it tears you apart inside, you _have_ to let him do his thing. You need to let him go.”

Nick was pretty spot on when he started with how much it would hurt, because Louis’ chest _aches_ with the thought of letting Harry move on from him, letting him do what he needs to and forgetting about Louis. That’s the opposite of what he wants. It’s what he _fears_.

“There’s a chance that you and your soulmate can be together,” Nick offers. “But you can’t force him, else he might hate you for it. You have to let things happen on his terms.”

He’s happy he came to Nick, happy with the advice he got out of it. And while it may sting, he has to let Harry do what he wants. He has to heed Nick’s advice.

He has to let Harry know.

☕☕☕

Harry’s not always had an easy go of things, but working at Harrods is by far the hardest work he’s done in his entire life. He’s said it before and he’ll say it again - he’s a ticking timebomb. Whenever the opportunity to leave arises, Harry will throw his name tag on the ground in happiness and rage.

It not even a hard job, but working in retail, having to become a 9-5’er and working in a terribly classist place oftentimes has Harry ready to pull his hair out.

When, in the middle of an impossibly long shift, Harry’s soulmark starts throbbing, he knows today’s going to be the day - he can just tell.

Louis shows up about ten minutes after the first pain in his soulmark, scratching rapidly at his inner arm, and Harry’s the farthest thing from surprised. He knew Louis was coming, knew something was going to happen, and yet he’s still unreasonably angry.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He barks loudly, not caring about the customers that turns that heads. “Can’t you leave me alone for 10 minutes?”

Louis flinches at Harry’s harsh tone, but moves to speak up anyways. “I just wanted to tell you - ”

“Tell me what?” Harry laughs, but it’s bitter. It’s bitter and malicious and he doesn’t know what’s taken over him. “About how you’re here to ruin my life even more? What now?”

Louis doesn’t respond, too stricken to even attempt to open his mouth, and Harry feels a strong mix of pride and shame at the sorrowful look on Louis’ face. On one hand, he doesn’t want Louis in his life -he wants him to realize that he isn’t wanted. On the other hand, his heart twinges when he thinks about making Louis sad.

It’s confusing, and it tears him apart inside, having to hop between Liam and Cara, debating whose advice to take. He doesn’t want a soulmate, he’s never wanted a soulmate, but putting Louis’ face to the word makes it a lot harder to walk away.

He still wants to walk away, though.

He needs to.

“You can’t just show up at my _work_ , Louis, _Jesus_ ,” Harry knows he sounds hysterical, laughing as he yells at Louis, but he can’t help himself - not after such a rough day, not when things are this complicated and everything’s happening so suddenly. “You can’t just pop up in my life whenever you want just because some stupid tattoo says we have to be together because _newsflash_ , mate, I never even wanted a mark in the first place.”

Harry can see, the moment Louis breaks. He can see all of Louis’ faith in Harry rush away, and for one sick moment, it feels great. Despite the hole in Harry’s chest getting consistently larger with each word he speaks, he holds on to the temporary feeling of accomplishment he gets from causing Louis’ sadness.

“This whole _soulmate_ thing is such a burden, honestly,” Harry continues, speaking mostly to himself before he focuses back on Louis, ready to redirect his anger. “ _You’ve_ been such a burden, mate. Before you, I knew where I was going, Louis. I had a _plan_. But you came along, and everything was completely ruined!”

Louis looks like he wants to speak, but he also looks like it would kill him to say one word, so he doesn’t talk.

And Harry continues.

“I wish we’d never met. And I hope we never do again.” He looks around, feeling a twisted sort of pleasure in the crowd of people looking at him, including Perrie’s horrified face, and his boss’ angry one. So he pulls his last move, taking his name badge off and throwing it on the ground. “And I quit!”

In a final act of rebellion, he spits on his badge and storms out the door, leaving his best friend, his soulmate, and his boss behind.

☕☕☕

This is when Louis breaks.

☕☕☕

Harry’s flight leaves Heathrow on a Friday. He should be at the pub with Perrie, getting drunk enough forget the tough week at work he’s had.

But he doesn’t have a job. And it’s the freest he’s ever felt in his life.

☕☕☕

Louis doesn’t go to work, choosing instead to mope in his bed. His mum, concerned by his absence at Thursday dinner, sent Niall to check on Louis, only to have him turn around and call Nick to tell him Louis won’t be to work for a little while.

Nick puts him on paid vacation, and Louis can’t find it in him to even react to it.

After Niall leaves, Nick texts him and explains to Louis that he knows what Louis is going through, that he’s felt it before. It may seem like the end of the world now, but it’ll get better, and he needs this time to recover.

Louis doesn’t respond.

☕☕☕

Harry meets a lot of people in his first week of travelling. From London, he flies straight to Fiji, revisiting the same place that instilled the need to explore in him.

He meets Xavier on the plane, having sat next to him for the entire time, swapping stories and telling jokes. Harry likes him, even though he can tell he may not be the most open minded guy, but he shares Harry’s view on seeing the world, and it makes Harry feel a little less guilty for his actions.

They part ways at the airport, Xavier going to stay with family and Harry catching a cab to meet his host family.

His host family are an American couple named Ben and Meredith Winston, and they’re very kind and hospitable despite their disapproval of Harry’s take on soulmates. On Harry’s third night there, Meredith sits him down on the living room floor) and tells him about how Ben was her saving grace, and that Fate sent her hardships to see if she was worthy of Ben. When she proved herself, Ben saved her.

Harry doesn’t mention how Ben made a move on him while they were cooking together on day one, or how he “misplaced” Harry’s swim trunks, making him wear a pair of tiny yellow shorts to the beach instead. He doesn’t mention that while Ben may be her saving grace, he clearly doesn’t feel as committed to their soulmate status.

Aside from his host family, Harry also befriends a couple from down the street, Jeff and Glenne. On just his second day in Fiji, they take him to Nadi’s open-air souvenir market, where he gets to see some locals hand paint saris. He tries his first ever fresh fish curry and has an almost heavenly experience in the restaurant alone.

On his fifth day, they give him a tour of the Nukubaluvu Village, where they take part in a sevu-sevu, a gift-giving ceremony. Afterwards, they celebrate by watching a traditional dance with grass-skirted warriors.

On his tenth day, he and Ben take a boat to Matangi Island, where they snorkel and relax on the beach, enjoying the sunshine. It’s fun, feels like a well-deserved vacation.

But it isn’t what Harry had wanted..

He still feels empty despite going back to the place that made him crave exploration in his life. Every new place he see and every person he meets, it all feels so meaningless, like something is missing.

He explains this to Ben, who simply shrugs, saying that it’s up to Harry to figure it out.

And for all that Ben talks a big game about being older and experienced, he really doesn’t know much.

Harry sits down and thinks about what could possibly be stunting his enjoyment, his fulfillment, on this trip. The only thing he can come up with is that his first time around, Robin made them sit down and learn about what they had seen, speak to the locals and get _their_ take on history.

This time around it feels more like Harry is a tourist.

Right as he’s rounding on his two week mark in Fiji, Harry packs his bags, ready to go somewhere new, to learn about the culture, educate himself on the history, and actually _talk_ to the people. He doesn’t want to be an ignorant tourist, there to exploit their culture.

He wants to really learn.

☕☕☕

Louis spends ten days moping before Niall intervenes, barging into Louis’ flat, bringing with him a box of pizza, a six-pack of beer, and a can of Airwick to freshen up the place (it’s definitely needed, just like opening every window is as well).

“Come on, ya lazy fecker!” Niall’s tactics aren’t as soothing as Lottie’s were he knocked on his door and shouted her love through the walls when he wouldn’t answer. Niall takes a more aggressive approach to everything. “‘s time to shower, mate!”  

Louis doesn’t move - doesn’t really want to. It’s been ten days since Harry tore Louis’ heart out in Harrods, and he’s probably living it up in Spain by now, hiking up Mount Everest or even surfing in Southern California. He could be anywhere, but Louis just wants him in London, in this flat, cuddling with him in bed.

Instead, he’s got Niall whistling off-key and throwing open all three windows in Louis’ room as he sprays air freshener with every step he takes.

It’s only been ten days after two and a half months of emotional tetherball with Harry, and 25 _years_ of craving his soulmate. Louis didn’t do well in maths, failed his A-levels even, but ten days isn’t enough time to recover. It’s not even enough for Louis to _process_ that his life is over.

If there’s one plus to the total and complete rejection, it’s that his arm is starting to heal. He hasn’t had an urge to scratch away the pain, but it’s mostly just because he’s in constant pain everywhere else that he doesn’t have the time to focus on his soulmark.

“C’mon, man,” Niall continues. “Let’s go.”

Louis shakes his head, protesting Niall’s suggestions, but lets himself be pulled up. He knows he needs to shower, knows he needs to be a functioning member of society again. It’s just hard, and taking the first step seems like an impossible feat.

He has to try though, even if if he doesn’t think it’ll help.

☕☕☕

Harry flies right from Fiji to Peru, wanting to see Machu Picchu. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he’s always been interested in South American culture, even has a “ _Brazil !_ _”_ tattoo on the thigh opposite of his soulmark.

Harry wants to climb to the top, enjoy the view and experience the fresh air, but first, he stays in Cuzco, spending time reading up on emperor Pachacuti and his reign, which included expanding the small Inca land into almost the whole western South America. Pachacuti was referred to as "son of the Sun", a title which makes something warm settle in his chest.

Harry also learns about how Machu Picchu actually _isn’t_ the "Lost City of the Incas”. That’s a name more suited for Vilcabamba, another Incan city destroyed by fire and abandoned.

Hiram Bingham comes up numerous times in Harry’s study, so he reads about his accidental discovery of Machu Picchu in 1909 - having been shown to the historic spot as a local farmer, he mistook it for the capital.

Harry reads, he learns.

He talks to locals and asks if they’ve ever been there, and how they feel about some natives upholding the sacrifices made at the Altar of Condor, even if they’re only animal sacrifices. He hears stories of people who’ve been around since the earlier years of its rediscovery.

He learns, he listens.

Harry climbs Machu Picchu long after anybody else would feel comfortable in the culture. He reads and listens and learns for four days after he feels he’s really grasped the knowledge he needs. He continues to try and truly understand how beautiful it really is.

He climbs to top after two and half weeks of trying to understand the beauty of the historic site, and when he finally reaches the top, he takes a deep breath and enjoys the fresh air. He looks around and admires the architecture, tries to see if he can find any sign of life in the walks before him. He looks off the edge, and enjoys the view, really experiencing being somewhere so magical.

But he still feels nothing.

That’s not entirely true - Harry still appreciates the history he’s learned, and he feels a new understanding for other ways of life, just having been in the presence of such a classic site.

But he still feels empty. Completely and utterly empty.

☕☕☕

Louis first laughs about three and a half weeks after Harry leaves.

He’s only been back at work for a week, but it’s been hard getting back into the swing of things. Of course, because it’s a part of everyday culture, soulmates are brought up often. Nick’s great about it, though - he usually sends Louis out to do something fruitless right before the subject is brought up.

Louis still has to get Nick his ridiculous coffee order, but with Harry out on his adventures, there’s no risk of running into him in public, so it’s less frightening than it was at first (Louis had a panic attack upon entering The Black Lab the first time, but Trevor, his favorite barista talked him back down and helped him get back to work safely).

Being back at the Beeb is hard - it is - but it’s the refresher Louis needs, his first step to maybe returning back to who he used to be, instead of the shell of a man he is today. It’s helping him to move on from the mess Harry left for him.

It’s as he’s copying tomorrow’s schedule that Nick finally corners him, literally, into the nook beside the faxing machine. “Are you alright,” he asks, maintaining an intense level of eye contacts as he uses Louis’ shoulders as a balance for himself to squat. “Are you sure you’re ready to be back at work?”

Louis shrugs, not sure if he actually _is_ ready to be back, just knows that he _wants_ to be back. “I’m not sure, but it’s too late to go back ‘innit?”

“No,” Nick answers, shaking his head with an earnest look on his face. “If you still need some more time, I’d happily let you go back.”

And that gives his him pause because no boss would ‘happily’ send their assitant back on a paid vacation; especially, a pretentious areshole like Nick Grimshaw.

“Do you _want_ me to go?” Louis asks, actually nervous for his answer, which - this whole, fear of rejection thing is brand spanking new and Louis doesn’t know how to feel about it.

“Yeah,” Nick answers, nodding without a trace of humor on his face. “I want you to get better. I don’t want you coming to work to pass the time or because a friend told you that you had to,” he continues. “I want you to completely recover from this, go back to being that sarcastic twat I hired and love to hate.”

Louis smiles, and it feels foreign on his face - definitely welcome, but it’s a new feeling.

The copier beeps as Louis smiling at Nick, telling him his papers are done, so Louis nods to excuse himself and walks back to the machine to get the schedules. His shift is almost over, so he’d like to have them gathered and stabled before he -

“Is it sexual harassment if I said I missed your arse?”

It’s silent for a moment after Nick’s comment before a laugh actually _bursts_ out of Louis, shaking his entire body and taking him by surprise. The crude joke is so completely out the blue, just truly unexpected and Louis can’t help but take absolute delight in it.

He forgot how good it felt to laugh again, but he’s ready to remember.

☕☕☕

Leaving Peru has Harry unsettled. He learned and took in the culture - he spoke the the locals and didn’t actual climb even a _second_ before he was ready. He did everything he could, and and yet standing on the top of Machu Picchu felt draining and left his chest empty and aching.

He’s going to the Great Wall of China next, wants to cross it off his list early on as it’s always been one of his favorite marvels of the modern world. He does study up again, but this time, he doesn’t put as much into it. He knows that his experience isn’t what’s preventing fulfillment, and it’s getting to the point where he’d rather just get to the main attraction, feel the disappointment.

So he studies a bit, not as enthusiastically as in Peru, but he does it nonetheless. He learns half the knowledge he would’ve thought he wanted to, doesn’t care to read about the smaller stories or to even talk to the locals.

He just wants to get this over with.

It hits him, that he’s made his biggest dream something that makes him sad and tired, as he’s actually standing in front of the Great Wall. It’s crowded - of course it is, seeing as it’s Autumn, the prime time for tourism in Asia. Everybody around him talking loudly to make sure their family and friends hear them, and they’re not afraid to touch him, to shove him out of the way.

And if that doesn’t put a damper on his visit, watching a soulmeet right before his eyes sure as hell does. The couple runs into each other - literally - right in front of Harry, he can see the matching marks on their arms, an animated wall bearing resemblance to the one right before their eyes (if they were looking at anything but each other).

Harry can actually feel the static from each of them, feels entranced in their moment and wonders if this is how everybody in the coffee house felt when Harry and Louis met.

It’s a sweet sentiment, and the two are clearly excited to meet each other. They’re a lot happier than Harry was, that’s for sure.  And knowing that being there together has so clearly improved their experience has Harry questioning why he ever thought he could come alone.

He should’ve brought Perrie, or his sister, or his mum, or Liam, or _anyone_ really - just so he didn’t feel so alone in such a crowded city.

But what really pushes the thought that he need to go home into his head is the email he gets from Gemma when he goes back to his hotel. It goes along with their standard email chain, updates on each other’s lives and fun anecdotes, but this time Gemma’s added that a wedding invitation came to her flat, forward addressed from his work.

Lottie and Tommy’s wedding.

Harry buys his plane ticket that night.  

☕☕☕

Things have started to get better for Louis. He’s back to attending dinner every Thursday with his family - though he doesn’t inform them of what’s happened with Harry just yet. Call it shame or cowardice or whatever fits appropriately, but Louis just hasn’t recovered enough to sit through his family’s pity yet.

He’s getting back to usual self at work, making jokes at Nick’s expense and having the entire studio in stitches. Nick even let’s him on the radio once and they had an entire back and forth planned. It feels good to be back, and while there’s still a Harry-shaped hole in Louis’ heart, it’s slowly starting to mend itself.

For all that he’s been getting better though, he’s been ignoring Niall’s and Lottie’s offers to take him out, to finally get him out in public, doing more than just tasks for Nick. Which is why it’s funny that the first time Louis does something _fun_ , and for _himself_ , it’s also for Nick.

Matt introduced a new possible segment to the show, where they’d bring in new, unsigned artists to the show, letting them perform in the Live Lounge. Everybody loved the idea, but it was a struggle to actually _find_ the artists.

So Nick suggested an open mic night at a local pub to the team, and they loved it. And then he suggested taking Louis with him, privately, right after the meeting had ended.

And Louis said yes.

Nick was the most understanding person to Louis’ situation, and in asking for Louis to tag along, it shows a lot of trust in him.

It’s an odd change of pace. Back before Louis had even met his soulmate, he could’ve never imagined going to the pub with Nick Grimshaw. Sure, they’d had a few friendly moments (hidden in between Louis’ distaste and slight resentment for the way Nick had treated him), but this was far outside of his expected norm.

That’s how Louis found himself sitting in a half-booth next to Nick, nursing a Corona as a mediocre (and by mediocre, he means rubbish) indie band makes noise onstage (Louis wouldn’t call it music). The only reason Louis’ smiling is because Nick is warm, and for the first time in months, Louis is feeling like something good is happening.

The band finishes up far too quickly (not quick enough), and Nick excuses himself to talk to the band, leaving Louis with an almost empty bottle of beer, and a completely empty phone battery.

So Louis stands from the table and goes to the bar to get another Corona. He doesn’t know whether or not they’re staying for another band, but if he has just one more drink, maybe it’ll make the music tolerable.

“Louis?” He hears a soft voice ask as the bartender hands him his Corona. “Is that you?”

“Hm?” Louis turns towards the voice and sees a blonde head of hair that looks so familiar, and it may have been a while, but isn’t that…  “Oh, Perrie, hi! What are you doing here?” There’s a really big part of him that hopes to Fate she isn’t a fan of any of the bands.

“I’m here with my soulmate,” she sings, sounding absolutely in love and only making Louis a _little_ bit jealous. “It’s actually a date night for us.”

Looking past Perrie, Louis sees a girl, nursing a Stones Bitter as she watches the two of them with careful eyes. “Is this her?” Louis asks, looking straight to her with (what he hopes is) a harmless smile. “She’s gorgeous. You two look absolutely exquisite together.”

Perrie blushes, looking back to wear her soulmate is still glaring at Louis. “Thank you, Love.”

Perrie’s soulmate stays quiet, taking an intimidating drink of her beer, and instead of being put off or angry or literally anything, Louis feels jealous. He wants to be in Perrie’s place, seeing an old friend in public and having his own soulmate watching from the sideline, making sure everything goes okay.

He’s mostly moving on, only occasionally feeling the gut wrenching pain that comes with being completely dismissed by your soulmate. So this jealousy, it’s normal for him, and he doesn’t pay it too much mind, only wanting to leave them with a positive impression of him, not letting them on to the fact that after Harry left, he positively broke down and didn’t get back up for a while.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he leans forward to shake Perrie’s soulmate’s hand. “I’m Louis”  

“I’m Leigh-Anne,” she introduces herself, returning the handshake. “It’s lovely to meet you as well.” There isn’t even the slightest moment of silence after they release hand before she’s back in judgement mode, rushing out to say, “Are we done being proper? How did you two meet?”

Perrie looks at Louis like she’s been caught stealing, eyes wide and mouth hesitant. “Well, uh - “ she stutters, and Louis feels bad for her because he’d be fine if she told the truth, but now, no matter what she says, it’ll sound like a lie. “Louis is - “

“I’m her best friend’s soulmate,” he interjects, not wanting to ruin such a nice night with an awkward conversation. “The rejected one.”  

And for the first time, Louis witnesses Leigh-Anne not only smiling, but laughing along as well. “Well you’re blunt, she observes, taking another drink for her Stones. “So you’re the reason Harry fled the country.”

The words sting, why wouldn’t they, but Louis’ smart enough to move past, to not let his mind dwell on Harry’s absence. “Uh, yeah. I guess that’s me.”

Seeming to admit where her wording may have been too much, she quickly adds, “Well for what it’s worth, I’d at least take you with me.”

“Thank you,” Louis grins. He turns to the blonde sitting next to where he’s standing, seeing her sipping at her fruity drink through a straw, watching the two of them converse with a twinkle in her eyes. “Perrie, babe, would you mind if I took Leigh-Anne from you?”

She drops the straw from her mouth and flaps her hand towards Louis. “Be my guest, she made me pay for my own drinks tonight”

Leigh-Anne’s mouth drops open and she lets out a choked off laugh that has Louis giggling just hearing it. “Slag off!” she yells. “Maybe I _will_ go home with Louis tonight.”

“Am I invited?” And it’s not that Louis forgot about Nick, it’s just that he was so wrapped up in conversation that he… Well, he forgot about Nick, if he’s being completely honest.

But whereas hearing Nick’s voice makes Louis grin, it has Perrie scoffing, a disgusted look taking over as she scrunches her face up. “Please tell me you know him and he’s not just some wanker that hangs out in bars.”

“Don’t worry, Love,” Louis shakes his head and pulls Nick closer to him so their sides touched. “This is my boss, Nick.”

Perrie nods, satisfied, and goes back to drinking. But then she coughs on her straw and looks up angrily at Nick. “Are you the one that made Louis buy food for your dog?!”

Nick laughs at Perrie’s accusing tone. “I think I am,” he confesses, still smiling as he shakes his head. He turns to Louis and bumps their hips together lightly. “I forgot I did that to you, Louis. I’m sorry I was such an arse.”

“It’s okay, honestly. I talked shit to everyone I know about you.”

“It’s true,” Perrie nods along. “We’ve only met a few times, and I knew all about you.”

Nick chuckles, not showing any shame about his past self, which makes Louis happy for some reason, that he isn’t apologizing for past mistakes that are mostly meaningless now. “Well then I guess I really am some wanker that hangs out in bars.”

“Join the club,” Leigh-Anne declares as she downs a shot sitting in front of her before turning to order another, grinning the entire time.

The trio of them watches silently before Perrie’s turning back to Louis with a dopey smile on her own face. “Well at least I’m not paying for _her_ drinks tonight.”

Louis laughs, glad to have run into them. They definitely made the atmosphere more tolerable, and dare he say _fun_. He didn’t feel the least bit jealous watching Perrie and Leigh-Anne fall even more in love with each other as the night went on.

And if Nick apologized for the dog food incident on his way home, well that just had Louis going to bed with a smile on his face.

☕☕☕

When Harry goes to book his next flight, he can’t get the image of the two soulmates out of his head. Everybody within 50 feet could feel the electricity coming off of them.

It hurt, watching them fall in love the moment the touched, when their eyes met. The ache in his chest, the one that’s settled itself since before he even left London, it throbbed in grief and jealousy for the bond that had made itself.

And Harry knew why. It’s because despite how much Harry _wants_ to travel and learn and just spend his life seeing the world, it won’t be anything if he does it alone.

And it kills him, it really does. Soulmates shouldn’t be a necessity, should only be an _option_ for if you want your life to head in that direction, and yet, no matter how hard Harry tries to deviate from that lifestyle, there’s still an emptiness inside of him screaming for Louis.

So Harry buys his ticket for London, ready to apologize to Louis so they can finally get their life back on the right track. So that they can finally do something about those marks they share.

☕☕☕

Louis feels insane.

It’s not even been 3 months since Harry left, and yet Louis’ already considering his options in moving on. He just feels like the faster he realizes that his soulmate isn’t going to just randomly show up and apologize, sweeping him off his feet into an eternity of love and happiness…

It’s just not realistic, and Louis now realizes that. Which is why, as their weekly meeting is coming to an end, Louis finds himself gathering his bearings and trying to work up the courage to confront Nick.

Five months ago, Louis would’ve _laughed_ at the idea of even being friends with Nick, now he’s about to propose something so much more and it doesn’t feel as crazy as it once would’ve.

“Nick,” Louis asks, tapping on Nick’s back after Matt dismisses everybody for the weekend. “Can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure,” Nick smiles, standing up from his seat. He turns and says goodbye to Pixie, who seems to want to stay and watch, but instead walks out of the room with the rest of the team. “You’re not quitting on me this time, are you?”

Nick’s joking, clearly referencing the last time they’d had to sit down to have a serious conversation.

“Actually,” Louis sighs, taking a sick pleasure in the way Nick’s face drops, eyes widening far past what can be a healthy amount. “Just kidding.”

Nick laughs even though it sounds forced, like he didn’t want to laugh and was still in shock, probably taking Louis seriously - something that nobody should do.

“That’s not funny,” he chuckles, gently pushing Louis’ shoulder away from him. “I’ve told you before I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You know - ”

Louis pauses. He doesn’t know how to bring it up, isn’t sure if Nick feels the same way as him, if Nick even _wants_ to try anything with Louis. Maybe this whole time he was just being sympathetic about Louis’ situation. Maybe -

“You know,” Louis repeats, deciding to just go for it before he can panic and stop himself. “I could say the same for you.”

“Hmm,” Nick hums, nodding along. “I am an amazing man, this is true.”

Louis laughs, but feels no true meaning behind it, just wants to give himself a distraction so he can work up the courage to just -

“Do you wanna go?” Nick’s eyebrows shoot up and Louis has to shake his head to clear his mind enough so he can get the words out. “With me, I mean,” he clarifies. “To my sister’s wedding. Tomorrow.”

“Oh,” he says, clearly surprised. “I mean, yeah. I’d love to.”

And Nick grins, Louis matching his smile, happy that he said yes. _Surprised_ that he said yes. Nick Grimshaw said yes to being his _date_ to a wedding. It’s exciting, really - the sign of a new beginning.

So why does it feel like the end of the world?

☕☕☕

Harry lands at Heathrow at 4 am on the the day of Louis’ sister’s wedding. He had never intended for the schedule to work out this way, but it’s a romantic twist to things and Harry can’t wait to put it into play.

When he’d left London, he threw out a lot of his belongings and gave all of the important things to Gemma, so that’s where he goes when his flight gets in.

When he gets to Gemma’s, he tries to be as quiet as possible as to not wake her (which he does anyways) while he searches for the invite to the wedding that his sister had texted him about while he was in China. When he finally finds it, with the help of a grumpy Gemma pointing him in the right direction as she complains about the early hour, he’s running low on time and needs to start getting ready.

He doesn’t have long, only about 3 hours before the reception starts, and he has to spend that time washing the trip off his body, and sorting through his things to find the suit he put in Gemma’s attic along with some of his other wardrobe pieces.

His mind has been distracted enough, that he doesn’t notice that his soulmark has been positively _throbbing_ until he’s actually on his way to the reception. It seems as though Fate knows that today is of importance.

His mark knows that today could be quite possibly the most important day of their lives.

So when he arrives to the wedding, he looks for his soulmate, knowing that the sooner they find each other, the sooner they can start their lives together, forever and always.

He’s only been at the reception for an hour when he finds Louis. The man in question is leaving the kitchen, coming outside with a grin on his face as he heads straight for Lottie’s table. He was mostly likely helping with something for the reception, so Harry waits for him to distance himself from everybody before he approaches.

“Louis?” He asks, following him away from where the rest of the guests are. “Hey.”

Lous whips his body around and his hand flies to his forearm, and even though it’s hidden by his suit, Harry knows for a fact that his soulmark is burning just like Harry’s is. “Harry? What are you _doing_ here?”

Louis doesn’t sound or look angry, so Harry smiles, hoping Louis wants to make this easy. “I came to see you.” His dimples pop out and it’s always been his biggest strength, so he thinks using them will help his case out better.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Harry spoke too soon because Louis; words come out furiously, spitting back at Harry, watching him in disbelief.  He was loud though, and it’s attracting the attention of guests. Not wanting to ruin his sister’s day, he sets his lips and whispers, “Why the fuck are you here?”

“I told you - ”

“No, Harry,” he interrupts. “ _Why_ are you _here_? It’s my sister’s wedding day. Are you here to steal the bouquet and smash the cake?” he accuses, and Harry’s stomach sinks. He’d hoped this wouldn’t be too difficult. “The marriage licenses are back at the church, so it’s a bit of a drive if you’re wanting to burn them.”

He doesn’t know quite what to say because Louis’ right to be so angry, and his malicious words, though cutting and painful, are said with a purpose, and Louis has reasoning behind them.

That doesn’t mean Harry likes hearing them, or enjoys how they cut into his heart. He wasn’t prepared for any of this. Wasn’t prepared to have to see Louis so angry, and to be the cause of it. He was prepared to apologize.

Because the last time he saw Louis, he was a sad, broken little thing. And while that was heartbreaking on its own, this might even be worse. Seeing so much rage coming from Louis doesn’t feel right, has his soulmark itching.

“What?” Louis asks, laughing coldly. “Do you not have anything to say? It’s a fucking miracle!”

“Look, Louis,” Harry tries. “I’ve thought a lot about our soulmate status and - ”

Louis scoffs, throwing his head back and turning slightly behind him, as though seeing if anybody was listening to Harry. “Our status?” Harry hears footsteps a small distance away from him, but doesn’t want to risk looking away from Louis. “What status? You took away any status we had when you broke my heart and _fled the country_.”

“Louis, would you listen - ”

“Hey,” a familiar voice interrupts him as a hand slaps down on his shoulder along with it. “What’s going on here? Everything alright?”

“Yeah, it - ”

“No,” Louis answers instead, disregarding Harry completely. “It’s not. He wasn’t invited and he - ”

He knows he’s already on Louis’ bad side, but he needs for Louis to understand that he isn’t crashing the wedding, that his attendance wasn’t completely unwarranted. “I was invited. Lottie invited me.”

“She _invited_ you?” Harry’s tries not to let Louis’ outrage at that hit him too hard. “Even after you fucking _left_ me?”

The man that approached them still has his hand resting on Harry’s shoulder, but at Louis’ outburst, the hand slowly slides off. “Is this Harry?”

He doesn’t know if the man is family or a friend or a stranger Louis’ just met, but he’s made a bad enough impression Louis’ other friends and family that he wants to make at least a decent impression on him. “Uh, yeah I am. It’s nice to meet you.”

The stranger doesn’t introduce himself, just nods at Harry’s words and seems to share a look with Louis. They’re arguing about something with their eyes, and in the end, Louis looks defeated and the stranger is gently nudging Harry’s shoulder towards the kitchen. “Why don’t you too take this somewhere more private then?”

“Nick - ”

“Louis, go.”

Louis turns with a sigh, leading Harry away from the reception and towards the kitchen. He goes in a different door than the one Louis came out of earlier, and it appears to be a sitting room. It’s empty, which is great, and Harry immediately finds himself speaking to fill the silence.

“So listen - ”

“We’re standing here in silence,” Louis cuts him off, arms crossing, making him stand up taller. And as much as Harry wishes everything would go more smoothly, seeing Louis stand up for himself, show some authority, some assertiveness, is something Harry didn’t know he was interested in. “I really don’t want to talk to you.”

“So let me talk,” Harry rushes to say. “If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll leave.

Louis stands quietly for a moment, watching Harry carefully and considering his words. “… Alright then.”

Harry doesn’t start right away. He doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. With only one attempt to let Louis know how _truly_ sorry he is. He traces back to every mistake he’s made since their first interaction, cringing at almost every time they’d come in contact, and found that the only thing he can do is just… apologize.

“I can’t apologize to you enough,” he starts, hoping that his tone conveys just how genuine he’s being. “I was horrible and cruel to you, and I wouldn’t act like that to my worst enemy, so the fact that I did that to you makes me angry. Angry at myself for being such a shitty person. I was a right tit, and I can’t say sorry enough.”

After he says his piece, Harry takes a deep breath and then smiles at Louis. He’s said his piece, and now it’s up to Louis to decide whether it was good enough. Harry’s optimistic, though because Louis’ always wanted to be soulmates, he’s always wanted to be happy, living for with the one person he was made for.

So Harry’s seeing the best outcome, and it’s all looking wonderful.

“That’s your apology?” Louis scoffs. And Harry’s heart drops. “‘I was a right tit?’Are you serious? Harry I don’t think you understand what you put me through. Let’s forget the fact that you _left the country_ for just one moment, will we?

“You rejected me from day one, but kept me on the line even though you had absolutely zero intention of ever being with me. You embarrassed me infront of Perrie, and then you embarrassed me in front of my own damn family. I had to go back inside and tell them all that you were just joking and that you didn’t actually want me, and the way they looked at me broke me, Harry.”

Louis chokes on his words, a sob slipping through. There aren’t any tears, and he doesn’t cry, but just seeing how close he is to breaking again has a few tears slipping out of _Harry’s_ eyes because having his soulmate be so sad and being the reason makes Harry's body feel like it’s being cut from the inside.

“It broke me,” Louis continues. “And just when I thought you couldn’t any worse, you used me, made me feel like a sex toy. And then you embarrassed me _again_ at your workplace, calling me a burden in front of 20 strangers, using me so you could quit your job, and leave me behind. And as much as everything you did hurt, leaving was the worst of it. Because you were cruel to me, you ruined me, Harry. You _left_ me so you could live your dream, but Harry, you were _my_ dream. And you walked all over it. So pardon me if I don’t accept your piss poor apology.”

“Louis - ”

“I think you should leave.” Louis is close to crying, it’s clear in the way his voice wobble and with the glint in his eye. Harry doesn’t want to see him cry, doesn’t want to feel the pain, but he also needs to be there, to comfort him through it.

“But - ”

“I listened to what you said,” he interrupts again. He’s calmer now, focusing on his breathing, appearing to be put together. But even knowing that it’s all a facade has Harry’s soulmark burning in an unpleasant way. “I heard you out, but I didn’t like what I heard. It’s time for you to go.”

Harry knows he needs to go, knows that he’s overstayed his welcome. But before he goes, he has one last trick up his sleeve. The only time Harry had felt completely connected, 100% at ease with Louis, was at Jesy’s party when they were alone.

So in one last pathetic attempt of coercing something out of Louis, Harry leans into Louis’ space and molds their lips together. It works, that’s for sure. Louis leans into it immediately, seeking out Harry’s warmth, hoping for the electricity between them to stay forever.

The moment doesn’t stay forever. It ends the moment Louis thinks better and pushes Harry off of him, shaking his head angrily. “No! You can’t fix everything with a kiss. I can’t believe you even tried to. I want you gone, Harry. You aren’t welcome here.”

Harry doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t want to push Louis any farther than he already has, just nods his head and leaves. He’s nowhere near ready to give up on Louis, knows that they’re destined to be together, but he can’t keep trying so hard when Louis’ already so furious with him. He just has to sit back and wait.

Fate will do the rest.    

☕☕☕

Louis ignores Nick for the rest of the weekend.

He feels incredibly guilty for how the wedding went. If not even for Harry showing up, but just for how poorly he himself acted, disappearing after Harry left, locking himself and crying, leaving Nick to socialize among the guests on his own. It was rude to Nick, completely unfair, and Louis feels like an absolute twat for it.

So he ignores him. On the ride back to the city, he stays quiet, pretending to be asleep so to not let Nick onto his guilt. And when they arrived back home, Louis said a sleepy goodbye, accepting Nick’s hug, before heading upstairs.

He spends Sunday in bed, ignoring any contact made in his direction, too afraid of seeing Nick’s name, feeling guilty, and responding. He doesn’t need to talk to Nick while his head is so cluttered; it’ll just muck up everything they have, all the progress they’ve made as co-workers, friends, and maybe more.

When Monday comes around, Louis arrives to work at time which he isn’t considered late, but he’s handing Nick his coffee as Matt is counting down to the opening link. It’s pathetic and so, so childish, but Louis’ willing to do what he has to to avoid looking like the bad guy he is.

His strategy to avoid confrontation with Nick works all the way up until Nick’s show is actually over. And that’s because Nick is his boss, and has the ability to call Louis to his office. Alone. Which is exactly what he does.

Louis closes the door behind him when he gets to the empty office. Nick is sitting in the chair behind the desk, and he doesn’t look like he’s angry, but Louis doesn’t want to assume, so he stands still and waits for Nick to speak. “So you’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not a question, not even an accusation, just a statement, but it still has Louis fighting his face against flinching like it’s trying to. “Have I?” He asks, knowing immediately that it sounds ingenuine. “Nick, I’m sorry if it seemed - ”

Louis wasn’t expecting Nick’s delighted laughter to cut him off, and it has him confused. “Louis you don’t have to act like you weren’t dodging me all weekend. I know you were, and I’m fine with it.”

“You are?”

“Yes,” he answers, smiling as he watches Louis stand before him. “Because I know what this is about.”

“You do?”

Nick doesn’t acknowledge him at first. He waits a brief moment before gesturing to the chair across from him. Take a seat, Louis,” he requests. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

As Louis’ pulling out the chair in what feels like the slowest movements he’s ever made, he thinks, thinks about the law (of all things, really). He thinks about whether it’s legal to fire somebody over a personal relationship. And if it’s illegal, but happens anyways, how much could he sue for?

Because that’s what’s happening, isn’t it? Louis went out on a limb, ready to move on from how poorly his life’s been going and maybe try something new. But instead of having an exciting adventure, Louis’ about to lose his job.

There’s no doubt about; every moment that Harry is in Louis’ life is another amazing experience being torn to shreds. Harry ruined his life.

So why does Louis still want him so much?

Nick clears his throat, pulling Louis out of his thoughts. “Now I know that right now, you think you’re mad at Harry,” he begins, watching Louis carefully. “I know that you have a million and two reasons to want him to pop his clog, but if he wants to be in your life then you have to let him.”

It’s the farthest thing from what Louis’ expecting, if he’s being honest. He never knew Nick to say something so… Not Nick. And what he’s asking, for Louis to just take Harry back regardless of what he’s done. “I…” Louis pauses, thinking on his word choice. “I don’t think I can do that. He’s hurt me, Nick, I don’t think you get that.”

“I do, Louis,” He protests, leaning his body over the desk, getting closer to Louis as he says, “And I know that you don’t want to want him. But you still do. So you need to go for it.”

“But what about us?”

Nick laughs, a soft chuckle that should probably sting at least a little bit. “We went out a few times, more as friends than anything else. We might have some feelings for each other, but you and Harry have an unmistakable bond. You’ve always wanted to be happy with your soulmate, and this is your chance. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I ruined this opportunity for you.”

“Let me put it this way, Louis. If my soulmate came back to me right now and said they wanted something casual, I’d do it in an instant. Regardless of how empty and alone he made me feel, I’d still forgive him in an instant. That’s just what soulmates do, they forgive and they love. He left 9 years ago, so I can safely say that the pain never goes away Louis, and if you have chance to be with who you’re supposed to… then you have to do it, and I refuse to be in the way of that.”

His words hit Louis hard, and he understands what Nick’s saying. He cries little, letting the tears fall. As much as Louis doesn’t want to admit it, Nick’s right. And it stings to admit because it means that he’s going to have to get over his fear of being rejected again.

Maybe not immediately, but sometime in the future.

Louis leaves Nick’s office wondering why _they_ couldn’t be soulmates. He quickly dismisses the thought, though. They’d probably kill each other before they even went on a date.

☕☕☕

It’s been a slow wait, giving Louis time. Harry doesn’t know when they’re supposed to fall in with each other, when they’re supposed to meet again. He’s hoping soon, but he’s willing to wait a lifetime.

☕☕☕

It feels like a lifetime since he’s last been outside of the BBC Radio 1 building.

It’s only been a month since Nick told Louis that they couldn’t see each anymore. It’s been a busy month, though. Immediately following their meeting, Nick suggested Louis to the higher ups of the BBC for a new on-air personality. Since then, it’s been 4 long weeks of planning his own show, hiring producers, and getting everything set.

It’s only a weekends show, Saturdays and Sundays from 8pm until midnight, but it’s Louis’ very own show, and he couldn’t be more excited about it. So when the Tuesday before his show rolls around and Louis finally gets a break, he wants nothing more than to cook himself a nice meal, drink some wine, and watch mindless reality TV.

He’s going down the bread aisle, debating on buying himself a fresh loaf, when he notices there’s only one left. And for the sake of actually getting the last loaf, he reaches out for it, already decided.

When he pulls the bread off the shelf, it also tugs in another direction. Looking up, Louis sees another hand on the bread and understands why.

And then he sees the face of the person holding the bread, and yeah… that seems about right, doesn’t it?

“Oh, hey.”

“Louis! Hi,” Harry greets. He’s all dimples, eyes shining like seeing Louis is the greatest thing to ever happen to him. He looks into Louis’ basket and his eyes widen when he sees the bottle of wine. “Are you, having guests for dinner?”

Louis looks down to where he’s still gripping the bread, and he drops his hand. “No,” he denies. “I just wanted some fresh bread for tea.”

“Well, I’d offer to go halfsies,” Harry jokes, holding up the bread that Louis just released. “But I don’t they’ll let us each buy half a loaf.”

Neither of them speak for a moment, Harry still slightly grinning, pleased by his joke. “Right.” Louis turns and starts to walk off, not wanting to sit through one-handedly awkward conversation.

“Wait, Louis!”

“It’s alright, Harry,” He sighs, only stopping to turn and say in what was supposed to be an angry way, but comes out sounding more pathetic than anything else. “I don’t need fresh bread tonight. I can pick some up tomorrow. Or the next day. Or next week. Or never. It’s just bread.”

“It’s a great source of iron too!”

Louis doesn’t laugh, doesn’t know why Harry’s here making jokes when the last time they saw each other, he made the worst attempt at an apology Louis’ ever seen. He should be grovelling, he should be in _tears_ -

That may just be Louis’ imagination running a bit wild. He may also just want to see Harry cry.

Harry shakes his head, a sigh falling from his lips as he’s hopefully chastising himself for making jokes at the wrong time. Again - Louis’ imagination. “Anyway,” Harry continues. “I was just going to say that since _I_ have fresh bread for tea, that maybe you could come over and maybe… have fresh bread for tea as well.”

“Harry - ”

“You were right, you know,” Harry interrupts. And no, Louis doesn’t know. Doesn’t understand to when he’s referring. “Back when you said I was selfish, that night of your family dinner. I am selfish, everything I’ve done in my life has been selfish. I didn’t listen when you said it. I heard it, but I didn’t actually _hear_ it. Everything I’ve done to you, everything I’ve said to you, it’s all been selfish. When I apologized to you at your sister’s wedding, that was selfish too.”

Louis’ stunned. He wasn’t accepting such an open and _genuine_ apology. He’s replayed the apology in his head over and over, thought about Harry’s words every free moment he has, and none of it felt real, but now it does. “And the kiss?”

“That was definitely selfish,” Harry confesses, a shy smile painted across his lips. “I always find myself wanting to kiss you.” Louis blushes, can feel the heat rushing to face at the comment. Harry continues, “When I came to Lottie’s wedding, I thought you’d just forgive me and jump into my arms, and it was wrong of me to assume that. I did nothing to earn your forgiveness. Even my apology was meaningless. I said what I thought you wanted to hear, and not what you deserved to hear.”

“You deserve to hear everyday that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. To hear that you’re brave, and strong, and worth so much more than you’ve been given. Louis, you deserve someone like you, because you deserve the best. And I know that you may never forgive me, and if you don’t then it’s alright because your anger, it’s proper justified.

“But we _are_ soulmates, and without each other we may never feel complete. And you may not like me right now, I mean, I was a right tit to you.” Louis laughs at that, can’t help it, not when Harry’s got that playful smirk on his face and is being so true and regretful about his mistakes. “But even though you don’t like me now, that’s subject to change, possibly.

“So I’m extending my invitation to you one last time. If dinner goes terribly, we don’t have to pretend any longer, and we can move on from each other. But if something good does come out of it, we could try - slowly, of course - to be together, to grow together, like we should’ve from the start if not for my stubborn arse. So what do you say?”

And Louis knows that he’s willing to try. From the moment Harry admitted to his selfishness, Louis could see a change in him. He knows he’s going to go, and that things are going to work out.

But he still feels a sly smirk placing itself on his face as he teases Harry with one word:

“Maybe.”

☕☕☕

Louis isn’t normally a short fuse kind of guy, but Harry’s been in line for about 7 minutes, and if Louis has to go another 3 without his tea, he may just throw a fit. Or a muffin. Whichever is easiest. They’ve only got so long to spend at The Black Lab anyways, having to meet Perrie and Leigh-Anne at the studio in an hour.

The girls wanted a tour of the studio, and since Louis can’t give one during his show as he’s too busy on air, and the station is practically dead anyways, Louis worked out an arrangement to bring everyone in during _his_ show.

And despite Louis’ initial fear, Harry doesn’t have any ill feeling towards Nick; in fact, the two get on really well. A little too well. It’s like having two disgusting hipsters telling him to listen to vague bands that sound more like failed infomercial products than actual bands.

“Alright,” Harry announces, lying two mugs on the table in front of where Louis’ sitting. “I’ve got my coffee and your Yorkshite tea.”

Louis has to bite his tongue and stop the rolling of his eyes at Harry’s purposeful mispronunciation of his tea. It wasn’t funny when he first made the joke 4 months ago, and it’s definitely not funny now. “Thank you, Love,” He says, hoping it doesn’t come out too sarcastic lest Harry think he’s acknowledging the terrible joke. “I’m so happy to have you in my life”

Harry grins, shaking his head, and Louis knows that he sensed Louis’ disdain of the joke. “I’m a blessing, you’ve told me.”

“That you are,” Louis agrees. He takes sip of the tea and immediately recoils at the bitter taste. “Did you ask him for sugar in this?”

“I thought you didn’t like sweetener in your tea?”

“Not at home,” he notes, still looking down at the tea, not glaring like it’s personally offended him. “But they make it far too bitter here.” Harry doesn’t respond, instead just watching Louis, waiting for a solution to present itself, as he holds his own mug between his two hands. “For a blessing, you sure are a pain in my arse.” He gets up and finds his way to the counter to ask Trevor for some sugar.

And maybe a muffin…

☕☕☕

Harry’s not even alone for a full minute when he sees a head full of light hair and a face he would recognize anywhere. “Be still my heart,” he gasps in an almost believable manner. “Is that Gemma Styles I spy?”

Gemma turns around at the sound of his voice and positively beams when she spots Harry. “And just when I thought I’d had enough of my family.”

“Does that mean you saw mum?”

“Just got back from Holmes Chapel about 20 minutes ago,” she testifies. “Thought I’d try out the cool, hip coffee house my little brother’s always bragging about. Had no clue he’d actually be here.” She’s got a small coffee mug in her hand and looks to be on her way out. Harry’s glad he managed to catch her.

“I’m always here, Gemz,” he jokes. “I never leave.”

“That’s because you’re an actual bum with no job or home.” The siblings smile at each other for a moment. Harry truly misses being able to have real conversations with his sister. “So how are you really, still staying with Pezza?”

“Sort of,” Harry shrugs. “I’ve been moving my stuff into Louis’ flat slowly, and I’m hoping to make it a more permanent set up soon.”

“Oh yes, _Louis_ ,” Gemma sniffs, faux-casually glancing around the coffee house. “The soulmate. Is he here today, do I get to meet him?”

Families are a big step in Harry’s book. The last time either of them met family, it was when Harry so royally fucked everything up. So both of them have been hesitant to initiate anything for fear of something ruining the good thing they’ve got going. Hopefully, because this is much more natural, they won’t have any issues.

“Yeah, of course!” Harry nods, far too eager to have two of his favorite people meet. “He’ll be right back,” he tells her, looking around to see where Louis actually did run off too. “He was just getting sugar, I don’t know what’s taking so - oh.”

Gemma follows his line of vision and giggles softly next to him. “Is he the one sweet talking his way into a free muffin.”

“That he is.”

They watch him as he chats with Trevor, convincing him to give Louis a free muffin with his sugar. As he’s turning around Gemma hums appreciatively. “Very handsome,” she concludes from her watching. “I may be jealous.”

Louis’ walking over to them, already seeing Harry and Gemma talking. “Don’t tell him that. His head is already big enough,” Harry rushes out, speaking softly so he doesn’t give himself away. “Louis, babe, come here, I want you to meet my sister, Gemma.”

Louis, who had previously looked confused by the new appearance, smiles bright enough to light the whole room when he realizes it’s someone of importance. “Hello, Love. It’s so nice to finally meet an Actual Styles. I was beginning to think you were mythical creatures.”

“Well I’m not,” Gemma confirms. “But if you’ve seen Harry eat anything ever, then you know he definitely isn’t human.”

Louis laughs along, probably picturing Harry’s wide mouth in his head. “Innit’?”  

“And this is why you’ve never met before.”

Gemma scoffs, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it to yourself, Hazza. I have to be leaving anyway.”

Harry whines softly, hopefully too quiet to be heard. It always feels like he never gets enough time with his family. “Don’t come back anytime soon, alright?”

“Don’t worry about that, bro.” Gemma leans forward to hug Harry, and then takes Louis into her arms. It’s a sight that has Harry’s stomach twisting in the best way, and image he never thought he’d see. “I just have one question for you.”

“Alright?”

“When’s the wedding?”

And she’s joking, Harry knows she is. She, herself, hasn’t even moved in with her soulmate, and it’s been years since they’ve found each other. They’re seeing each other exclusively, but neither of them have bothered to take the next step, too content in their current arrangement.

Louis doesn’t hear it as a joke, though. His own family has already had an immediate proposal, so he doesn’t understand the humor, and he immediately tenses up, his limbs locking and his face becoming startlingly impassive.

“We’re taking things slow,” He answers, reaching his hand out to grab Louis’

Gemma acts like she’s thinking his words over, but they both know that it’s an act. “Good enough for me. Come visit anytime, will you?”

“Of course.”

“You too, Louis,” she adds, rubbing her hand on Louis’ shoulder. “I’d love to tell you embarrassing stories of Harry growing up.”

Louis laughs, and if the pictures will cause such a sweet sound to be constantly coming from Louis, he doesn’t mind a few bathtime pictures and talent show horror stories. “I’ll be there.”

And Harry smiles because while they have had some rough patches, and things may have looked dim for a while, he gets to stand here, hands intertwined with his soulmate’s as they make jokes at each other’s expense and plan for the the future.

Harry’s just unbelievably happy, and he knows Louis is too.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/sapphicbee) | [Tumblr](http://aceniall.tumblr.com)


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